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THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLES 



THE 

DRAMA OF SAVAGE 

PEOPLES 



BY 

LOOMIS HAVEMEYER, Ph.D. 

INSTRUCTOR OF ANTHROPOLOGY AND GEOGRAPHY IN THE 
SHEFFIELD SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL OF YALE UNIVERSITY 



|i 




NEW haven: YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS 

LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD 

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 

MDCCCCXVI 



• \ 



■H3 



COPYRIGHT, 1916 
BY YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS 



Published, October, 1916 



One Thousand Copies, Printed from Type 




OCT 28 1916 



©CI,A446177 



^ 






TO 
ALBERT GALLOWAY KELLER 

WHOSE INSPIRATION AND UNTIRING HELP 
MADE THIS WORK POSSIBLE 

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 



• 



PREFACE 

Under the influence of the study of evolution, 
especially social evolution, and of the science of 
society, it has become a practice to investigate 
the simpler stages of social institutions in order 
to be resolved as to their essential nature. Thus, 
Frazer has done much with the early history of 
religion ; Westermarck, with that of marriage ; 
and Tylor with that of culture in general. 

Among social institutions must be included also 
the drama. What can we find out about the 
nature of the drama by studying its earlier stages ? 
The following work is an attempt to go back of 
the Greek drama, which has currently been con- 
ceived of as the source of the dramatic art, and 
to develop the more primitive phases of this 
institution. Such a study leads one among savage 
peoples the world over, with the result of reveal- 
ing, in their various rites, ceremonies, dances, and 
pleasures, the germ of the drama. It is very 
crude in its beginning, yet it shows the earliest 
known steps which man took in this line ; and, 
the simpler forms being at length set in the series, 
we may say that we have carried one more 
social institution further back towards its origin. 

There are many parallels to be drawn between 
the drama of the savages and that of the Greeks 



viii PREFACE 

and the peoples of the Middle Ages. These are 
fields for specialists, and what is put in here, from 
well-attested authorities, is for the purpose of 
connecting the savage drama with later forms, 
rather than to try to add anything to these much 
disputed subjects. 

The investigation of the drama of the savage 
peoples is a new enterprise, for no one has hith- 
erto done more than scratched the surface here 
and there. There will inevitably appear incon- 
sistencies or false conclusions which I hope to 
correct as I learn of them from criticism and 
from further studies of my own. 

It is with great pleasure and gratitude that I 
here acknowledge the valuable assistance that I 
have so courteously received in the preparation 
of this work from Professor A. G. Keller, Profes- 
sor A. L. Bishop, Professor T. D. Goodell, Mr. J. 
R. Crawford, of Yale University; Mr. C. H. 
Ward of The Taft School ; and for the reading of 
the manuscript, to Miss Lucy S. Taintor of Hart- 
ford, Connecticut. 

LOOMIS HAVEMEYER 
New Haven, Connecticut. 
June, 1916. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface vii 

Chapter 

I. The Early Development of the Drama ... 3 

II. Ceremonies Connected with the Animal Food . 33 

III. Ceremonies Dealing with Plant Food .... 65 

IV. Points of Comparison between the Savage 

Drama and that of the Greeks and Japanese 95 

V. Initiation Ceremonies 125 

VI. Dramatic War Ceremonies 157 

VII. The Pleasure Plays of Savage Peoples . . . 173 

VIII. Summary 239 

Bibliography 251 

Index 263 



THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLES 



,/ 



THE EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF THE 

DRAMA 



« 



CHAPTER I 

THE EARLT DEVELOPMENT OF THE 

DRAMA 

ONE of the vital services to knowledge 
performed by the science of society has 
been the disclosure of the earlier and 
simpler forms of societal institutions. This 
has immensely lengthened perspective and has 
also, as a corollary to that, brought these insti- 
tutions into the range of the great modern doc- 
trine of evolution. Orderly sequences from the 
simple to the complex have shown the latter 
as arising naturally from the former, where 
previously complex forms had been conceived 
of as appearing suddenly, and also inexpHcably 
save on the hypothesis of some speculative 
necessity or coincidence. A few years ago 
there could not have been a conception of the 
evolution of marriage and the family, of prop- 
erty, or government. 

Similarly with the drama, whatever may have 
been suspected by certain advanced scholars, 
the youth of twenty years ago certainly did 
not see in the drama an evolution of form out 



4 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

of form in a series of ascending complexity. 
And it was not so long ago that it was not 
thought worth while, even by scholars, to go 
back of the Greeks to secure a point of depar- 
ture for the history of plays and play acting. 

It is now, however, well recognized that the 
place to seek for the simple stages of societal 
institutions is not in so civilized a community 
as, for example, that of Greece, but among 
savage peoples. Here are found the less de- 
rived forms of the industrial organization, com- 
munal property, animism, undeveloped forms 
of the family and government. Ethnographers 
have been able to explode many long-cherished 
ideas as to the beginnings of some of the insti- 
tutions of civilization. Until recently, for in- 
stance, it was supposed by many people that 
circumcision originated with and was peculiar 
to the Jews; but a study of savage peoples 
reveals the fact that a great many of them have 
this practice. Thus out of ethnography comes 
the lengthening of the backward perspective 
of societal evolution in general and of the evo- 
lution of the several societal institutions in 
particular. No one, so far as we know, has 
tried to piece together the earlier stages of the 
drama so that we may attain to a wider sweep 



^ 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA S 

of this social form through societal evolution. 
Historians of the drama have not been trained or 
informed along the hnes of research that reveal 
the simpler, more primitive stages; and anthro- 
pologists and sociologists have paid less atten- 
tion to this part of the social field than they 
have to the evolution of societal forms more 
closely connected with society's major and inevi- 
table interests. When they have indicated the 
importance of the former, it has been in passing. 

In the case of the topic now before us, Sumner 
laid out for future study a section on societal 
self-gratification, parallel with self-maintenance 
and self-perpetuation, and including the drama, 
but he never developed it. Frazer has a great 
mass of material on the vegetation ceremonies, 
but that is in connection with his major interest 
— religion. Groos, in his book "The Play of 
Man,'* devotes himself more to actual play in 
the general meaning of the word than to the 
drama. And so it is with many other writers 
on anthropologic and sociological subjects; they 
touch on matters closely connected with the 
drama, but it is nearly always from another 
point of view than that of the dramatic. 

Doubtless in the minds of many people there 
is a vague idea that savages do act, though in 



6 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

a crude and boisterous manner, and that such 
acting has significance for them, although the 
fact is merely of curious interest to a man of 
higher culture. What we mean to show is 
that the savage drama is the lineal antecedent 
of all modern forms, and hence that a knowledge 
of it is needful, in order to fill out the per- 
spective and to afford a lapse of time sufficient 
to allow a conception of evolution in this social 
form. Dramatic representation is enacted by 
practically all the "lower*' races in some primi- 
tive form; and among many tribes it is highly 
developed. To most of them it is of the utmost 
importance, for through it they not only seek 
relations with the imaginary environment of 
ghosts and spirits and keep the gods on their 
side in the struggle for existence, but derive 
also a great deal of pleasure through the satis- 
faction of the dramatic "instinct." A study 
of ethnography shows, in many instances, not 
only the dramatic worship of the gods of vege- 
tation, as in Greece, but also a very much 
higher stage of art. Before the Spanish Con- 
quest, for example, the Aztecs had developed 
the art of acting to a high degree of perfection.^ 

1 Biart, "The Aztecs," pp. 302 fF.; Buckham, "The Theatre of 
the Greeks," p. 99. 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 7 

It would be possible to amass a great deal 
of evidence to show that the propensity for imi- 
tation, which is the basis of the drama, appears 
even in many of the lower animals. "A tiny 
kitten creeps from its nest, still blind, but as 
soon as even one eye is open, it toys with every 
rolling, running, sliding, or fluttering object 
within its reach. If a cat keeps running after 
such a ball, in time a sort of role consciousness 
comes to her, something like that which accom- 
panies human actions that are intentionally 
make-believe. When the ball stops rolling, the 
kitten starts it up again by a gentle tap with 
her paw in order to begin the game again. . . . 
This seems like a conscious self-deception, in- 
volving some of the most subtle psychological 
elements of the pleasure that play gives." ^ A 
kitten or a dog that plays with a ball as though 
it were an animal is not in the least fooled into 
thinking that it is alive and good to eat. If he 
only chased the rolling object once and then 
dropped it when he found no life there, the con- 
clusion would be that he did not care for it 
as a mere object of play, but when a dog will 

^ Groos, "Play of Animals," pp. 130, 132, xix; H. Spencer, 
"Principles of Psychology," Vol. I, pp. 629 fF.; G. J. Romanes, 
"Animal Intelligence." 



8 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

beg to have a ball thrown for him, we may 
infer that it is the play part that he enjoys. 
Animals will very often imitate hunting for the 
pleasure they get out of it, when they know 
perfectly well that there is no prey to be 
gotten. 

Ridgeway, after describing sympathetic magic, 
of which we shall have more to say later, tells 
the following story of a cat which well illustrates 
this dramatic "instinct" in animals. "It may 
be that this belief in the efficacy of some mimetic 
representation of a successful hunt may be found 
even among the lower animals. The following 
fact may point in this direction. A tabby cat, 
of perhaps more than average intelligence, was 
seated on my knees one winter evening beside 
the fireplace. A mouse came out from under 
the further end of the fender, whereupon she 
sprang from my knee and caught it. Next 
evening she repeated the same performance, 
getting up and sitting on my knee, and then 
suddenly springing across the hearthrug to the 
spot where she had secured her prey on the 
previous night. Almost every evening that 
winter she repeated the experiment, never spring- 
ing at the imaginary mouse from any other place 
than from my knee. The following winter she 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 9 

recommenced the mimetic performance of her 
successful hunt, and the next winter she again 
did the same. It was only last winter that 
she finally abandoned her attempts to elicit 
a mouse by repeating the action which had once 
proved eminently successful. I may add that 
in the interval the fireplace had been completely 
altered. The same cat when searching for mice 
or when listening to them when beyond her 
reach does not growl, but addresses them in the 
dulcet tones of endearment which she uses to 
her kittens." ^ 

The desire to imitate shows itself to a very 
marked degree among children the world over. 
In savage communities practically the only 
amusement of the children consists in imitating 
the more serious acts and experiences of their 
parents. Thus they pick up the mores, they 
build small houses, they hunt and fish as they 
have seen their fathers do.^ The Australian 
boy sets up housekeeping with his gin} While 
one boy sits peacefully by the door of his hut, 
another rushes up and tries to abduct his wife, 
just as he will do in later Hfe. A make-believe 

^ Ridgeway, "Origin of Tragedy/* pp. io6 ff. 
2 K. Groos, "The Play of Man," p. 302; Tyler, "Primitive Cul- 
ture," pp. 72 ff.; Codrington, "The Melanesians," pp. 341-2. 
' Gm, Australian word for "woman." 



lo THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

fight or even an imitation of a mock fight results 
and the stronger wins the girl.^ 

The powerful influence upon civiHzed children, 
when they are brought into contact with savages, 
is well illustrated by the following example 
recounted by Signe Rink, who spent her child- 
hood in Greenland. "Like all European chil- 
dren in the country, my brother and sister and 
I had a genuine passion for everything per- 
taining to Greenland, and accordingly, as soon 
as the door was shut by our elders, we tried in 
every way possible and by all sorts of mimicry 
to identify ourselves with our playmates. My 
brother got himself up as a seal hunter from head 
to foot, and I became an Eskimo woman with 
a waddHng gait, who was sternly forbidden to 
leave the house." ^ 

A child is forever imitating the things which 
he hears and sees. These may be certain move- 
ments and actions of his parents, or other people, 
with whom he comes in contact; or perhaps 
some story such as Robinson Crusoe catches 
his fancy. In either case he proceeds to act 
out the thrilling adventures in his backyard. 
But it is not necessarily an actual person nor 

1 N. W. Thomas, "The Natives of Australia," pp. 13 1-2. 

2 K. Groos, "The Play of Man," p. 304; J. Sully, "Studies in 
Childhood." 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 1 1 

one embodied in a story, whom the child imitates. 
"During a long and complicated play he will 
be a doorpost, a tree, a seat, a wagon, and a 
locomotive, and endeavor by his motions and 
carriage to support these bold illusions." ^ At 
times he will take the part of animals, and, in 
order to carry out the deception, he will bark 
like a dog, snarl like a cat, fly like a bird, and 
swim like a fish.^ 

There has been much discussion as to whether 
the imitative desire in man could be called an 
instinct. Aristotle thinks that "Poetry in gen- 
eral seems to have sprung from two causes, each 
of them lying deep in our nature. First, the 
instinct of imitation is implanted in man from 
childhood, one difference between him and other 
animals being that he is the most imitative of 
creatures; and through imitation he acquires his 
earliest learning. And, indeed, every one feels 
a natural pleasure in things imitated." ' 

Groos, in his book, "The Play of Animals," 
calls imitation an instinct, but in his later vol- 

1 K. Groos, "The Play of Man," p. 301. 

2 K. Groos, "The Play of Man," p. 301; J. Sully, "Studies in 
Childhood," pp. 25, 36 fF.; Magnin, "Les Origines du Theatre 
Moderne," pp. 9 ff. 

3 Aristotle, "Poetics," IV, 2-4; S. H. Butcher, "Aristotle's 
Theory of Poetry and Fine Arts," p. 15. 



12 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

ume on "The Play of Man" he repudiates his 
former position. He says that, once granted 
the fact of instinct at all, an affirmative answer 
seems imperative to one who is familiar with the 
workings of this impulse in men and animals. 
"On these grounds I have committed myself in 
my former work to the designation of imitation 
as an inborn instinct, and yet I must admit the 
logical inconsistency of this, since the very con- 
ception of instinct dispenses with the use of 
imitation.'' ^ For our present purposes, however, 
it is not necessary to go too far into the field 
of psychology in order to determine whether 
this deep-rooted desire to imitate is an instinct, 
or whether it has become embedded in man by 
a long process of social selection. It is a fact 
that this desire does exist; ^ and the attempt 
here is to build up a structure composed of 
man's efforts to satisfy this desire.^ Much 
has been written on what may be called the 

1 Groos, "The Play of Man," p. 284. 

^ Chambers, Encyclopedia, Vol. Ill, p. 660. 

' "The Drama owes its origin to that principle of imitation 
which is inherent in human nature. Hence its invention, like that 
of painting, sculpture, and the other imitative arts, cannot properly 
be restricted to any one specific age or people. Scenical representa- 
tions are found to have existed among various nations, so totally 
separated, by situation and circumstances, as to make it impossible 
for any one to have borrowed the idea from another. In Greece 
and Hindostan the Dramatic art was at the same period in high 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 13 

conscious drama, that is, the results which came 
about after man's feelings had become so refined 
that he could express them in the form of a 
definite play. Before they took this form, that is, 
before these dramatic feelings of man developed 
to demand the real play with a well-devel- 
oped plot, there was a time when the expres- 
sions of these desires to imitate were very crude. 
They appeared, the world over, in the religious 
rites and ceremonies of people who were living 
on a very low stage of civilization. In other 
words, the savage man gratified his desire, 
which to-day among civilized peoples is satisfied 
by the well-developed plays of the theatre, by 
acting in his rough and awkward way the stories 
of his everyday life and the myths and legends 
which had been passed on to him by his fore- 
fathers. This may be called the unconscious 

repute and perfection, whilst Arabia and Persia, the intervening 
countries, were utter strangers to this kind of entertainment. The 
Chinese again have for ages possessed a regular national theatre. 
The ancient Peruvians had their tragedies, comedies, and inter- 
ludes; and even among the savage and solitary islanders of the 
South Sea, a rude kind of play was observed by the navigators who 
discovered them. Each of these peoples must have invented the 
Drama for themselves. The only point of connection was the same- 
ness of the cause, which led to these several independent inven- 
tions, — the instinctive propensity to imitation, and the pleasure 
arising from it when successfully exerted." This is a very good 
example of parallelism. Buckham, "Theatre of the Greeks," p. 99. 



14 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

drama of the savages. It is the intention here 
to treat primarily of these rites and ceremonies, 
to examine the facts which have been collected 
by the ethnographers, so that the drama existent 
among primitive peoples may be better under- 
stood, and thus to draw back another fold of 
the curtain which conceals so many of the origins 
of the civilized institutions. 

There is a twofold purpose to this imitation 
characteristic of savage peoples. The first and 
simplest is that it gives a pleasurable sensation 
similar to the real experience, and thus appeals 
to the animal in man. And, second, it enables 
man to convey his impressions to others — i.e. 
it is a form of language. As it is in this latter 
phase that the drama has its real origin, it is 
necessary that a brief outline be given of the 
way in which imitative language itself developed. 

One of the first means which men used to 
communicate with each other was the gesture,^ 
at first direct and simple, whereby a person could 
make his thoughts known to those about him. 
A man, for example, wished to convey to his 
friend the story of a hunt, or tell him of the 

^ W. D. Whitney, in "Language and the Study of Language," 
says, "It is past all reasonable question that, in the earliest com- 
munication between human beings, gesture long played consider- 
able, if not the principal part.*' 



y 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 15 

everyday things of life; but, because of his lack 
of adequate speech, he was obliged to act out 
the various occurrences, supplementing the action 
wherever possible with the cries of the animals, 
or with the few simple words which he knew. 

At this period of his history, man was just 
beginning to have ideas which raised him above 
the sphere of the lower animals. His wants and 
satisfactions were of the simplest kind, and he 
had little need of a more complex means of 
communication.^ As population increased, as 
men began to live in larger groups, and as their 
wants became more numerous and complicated, 
there developed a more satisfactory means of 
conveying ideas. The gestures still used came 
to be much more derived and complex. Little 
by little there developed, where conditions were 
favorable, a definite sign language which could 
give expression even to abstract thoughts. "The 
nearest approach to such action that is now 
possible, is where two people, wholly ignorant 
of one another's speech, meet and need to com- 
municate — an imperfect correspondence, because 
each is trained to habits of expression, and works 

^ Peter Giles, Encyclopedia Britannica, under heading "Phil- 
ology." Professor Sayce of Oxford says in this connection, "Man 
is man by virtue of language and it was gestures which first made 
language possible." "Development of Language," Vol. I, p. io6. 



1 6 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

consciously, and with the advantage of long 
experience towards making himself understood. 
Yet it is good for its main purpose. What they 
do to reach mutual comprehension is like what 
the first speechless man, unconsciously and in- 
finitely more slowly, learned to do; face, hands, 
body, voice, are all put to use." ^ 

Even to-day among some savage peoples their 
spoken language is so very meagre that without 
their gestures it would sometimes be impossible 
to know of what they were speaking.^ The fol- 
lowing authoritative instances taken at random 
will tend to illustrate this point. "The Zuiii 
Indians require much facial contortion and 
bodily gesticulation in order to make their 
sentences perfectly intelligible." ^ "The lan- 
guage of the Bushmen needs so many signs to 
eke out its meaning that they are unintelligible 
in the dark, and the Arapahoes can hardly con- 
verse with one another if no light is present." ^ 

^ Peter Giles in Encyclopedia Britannica, under heading "Phil- 
ology." 

^ Sir John Lubbock says, "Even the lowest races of which we 
have any account possess a language, imperfect though it may be, 
and eked out to a great extent by signs." "Origin of Civilization," 

P- 275- 

3 Spencer, "Principles of Sociology," Vol. I, p. 136, quoting Pop. 

S. M., 1876, p. 580; Burton, "City of the Saints," p. 151. 

* Lubbock, "Origin of Civilization," p. 277. 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 17 

The same holds true of the Pygmies of Africa.^ 
In speaking of the Tasmanians, Dr. MilHgan 
says, "They use signs to eke out the meaning 
of monosyllabic expressions, and to give force, 
precision, and character to vocal sounds." 
Spix and Martins,^ in describing some of the 
low Brazilian tribes, say that they complete 
by signs the meaning of their scanty sen- 
tences. 

The best example to-day of the sign language 
is to be found among the Plains Indians of 
North America. It was developed by them under 
the demands of a peculiar situation. Tribes 
prone to wander widely, yet speaking a variety 
of mutually unintelligible dialects, had need of 
a common means of communication. When, 
with the nomadic tendency heightened and 
strengthened by the use of the horse, this need 
arose, the Indian reverted unconsciously to an 
earlier stage of the art of thought-transference, 
there to develop the unique language of the 
Plains.^ Much of the history of these tribes 
has been recounted to the white man by the 
sign language, and many of the early treaties 

1 H. H. Johnston, "Uganda," Vol. II, p. 536. 

2 Spix and Martins, "Reise in Brazilien," 1823, Vol. I, p. 385. 
' W. P. Clark, "The Indian Sign Language," p. 15. 



I 



1 8 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

between the colonists and the Indians were 
drawn up through its medium. 

Thus it was that even in the very early his- 
tory of the race the first element of the drama, 
namely, imitation, appeared, and the purpose of 
such imitation was to express those ideas which 
could not be conveyed by any other means at 
the command of the savage mind.^ 

In this connection Miss Harrison says, **When 
the men return from the war, the hunt, the 
journey, and reenact their doings, they are at 
first undoubtedly representing a particular action 
that actually has taken place. Their drama is 
history, or at least narrative; they say, in eflPect, 
that such and such a thing did happen in the 
past. Everything with the savage begins in 
this particular way. But it is easy to see that, 
if the dramatic commemoration be often repeated, 
the action tends to cut itself loose from the 
particular in which it arose and become gen- 
eralized, abstracted, as it were. The particular 
hunt, journey, battle, is in the lapse of time 

^ Major-Gen. H. L. Scott, an eminent authority on sign language, 
in answer to the question. "Was the drama an outgrowth of this 
early gesture language.'"' said, "This pantomime was the effort to 
express thought and convey meaning by the Imitation of Actions, 
Qualities or Attributes by gesture movements, and there is no doubt 
whatever in my mind that this was the beginning of the drama." 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 19 

forgotten or supplanted by a succession of simi- 
lar hunts, journeys, battles, and the dance 
comes to commemorate and embody hunting, 
journeying, fighting. Like children they play 
not at a funeral but at * funerals,* * births,' 
'battles,* what not. To put it grammatically, 
the singular comes first, but the singular gets 
you no further. The plural detaches you from 
the single concrete fact; and all the world over, 
the plural, the neuter plural, as we call it, begets 
the abstract. Moreover, the time is no longer 
particular; it is undefined, not what happened, 
but what happens. Such a dance generalized, 
universalized, is material for the next stage, 
the dance pre-done."^ 

It is a commonplace, as we have seen — though 
the bearing of commonplaces is not always 
appreciated — that the normal child is forever 
living in a world created by his own imagina- 
tion, filled with personages about whom he has 
heard. ^ He talks and plays with these imagi- 
nary people as though they were real. There 
can be but little diflPerence between the mental 
processes of such a child and those of the savage 
who conceives that the world about him is filled 

^ Harrison, "Themis," p. 44. 

* B. Matthews, "The Development of the Drama," pp. 8 ff. 



20 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

with a multitude of spirits who are forever 
seeking to do him harm. The chief difference 
lies in the fact that the savage has a serious 
purpose in his make-believe, while the child is 
merely enjoying himself in satisfying his imita- 
tive desire. 

As the mind of man becomes more fully devel- 
oped and as he has time to think of other things 
than the mere creature wants, his attention is 
turned to such questions as his own origin, and 
that of many of the things with which he is 
surrounded. As there are no written records 
to give him facts, and as he has not enough 
scientific knowledge to give him the power of 
accurate reasoning, his imagination is given full 
play. The result is the creation of numerous 
myths and legends dealing with all such phe^ 
nomena. These are intimately bound up with 
his religion, and hence a sketch of his beliefs is 
necessary as forming the basis for the major 
portion of this book. 

The savage has peopled the world about him 
with a host of spirits. They occupy not only 
the air, but also every animate and inanimate 
object. According to his way of thinking, most 
of them are naturally unfriendly and are seeking 
by all possible means to do him an injury. Hence 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 21 

it is only natural that he should try to keep in 
their good graces and thus ward off much harm 
which would otherwise come to him. 

Herbert Spencer has so carefully worked out 
this portion of the subject in his "Principles 
of Sociology''^ that it would be merely repeti- 
tion to go over the ground again and show how 
the religious idea first dawned on the savage 
mind. But several of the aspects of primitive 
religious belief, bearing vitally upon the subject 
in hand, may be recalled. 

To the primitive peoples, the idea of motion 
and life are very intimately associated. They 
observe that when a man dies, the power of 
movement which he possessed during life ceases, 
and they reason that it has gone away with the 
spirit. Hence it must have been the spirit 
which caused the motion. But there is move- 
ment also in a plant blown by the wind, and in 
a flowing river; consequently these must have 
spirits as well. Gradually the primitive man 
gets the idea that all animate and inanimate 
objects have spirits. This is only one step 
removed from the belief that many of the spirits 
of the dead pass into the trees, the rivers, and 

1 Chs. XIII, XIV, Vol. I, part I. Also E. B. Tylor, "Anthro- 
pology," Ch. XIV. 



22 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

the stones. With these spirits of the dead about 
him on all sides, the savage trembles for his 
safety. When an enemy was alive he could be 
seen and dealt with accordingly, but after death 
the enemy's invisible spirit could wreak ven- 
geance, and there would be no redress. He 
conceived of this vast horde of beings as always 
ready to do him an injury and believed that he 
could escape only by the performance of the 
strictest rites and ceremonies in their behalf. 
As time went on, the demands of the spirits 
in this respect became so exacting that the ordi- 
nary man could not possibly attend to the elab- 
orate ritual. Hence, there developed a priestly 
class whose time was completely absorbed in 
communication with the souls of the dead. 
Such priests were the connecting link between 
man and his unseen oppressors. They could 
coerce the gods into granting things to man. 
If a member of a tribe desired some special 
favor from the spirits, he would have recourse 
to the priest or medicine man, whom he would 
ask how he might obtain the desired gift, or 
else ask that an appeal be made directly to the 
gods in his behalf. In the latter case the priests 
became the chief actors in the religious dramas 
of petition. 



J 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 23 

In order to carry on all such intercourse with 
the spirit world, it was necessary that a language 
known to the dwellers in this world and in the 
next should be employed. Inasmuch as the 
members of the spirit world at one time occu- 
pied this earth, and, though departed, remained 
anthropomorphic, the savage man thought that 
requests must be addressed to them in a language 
which they would understand. Having actually 
lived at a time when the spoken language was 
meagre, the dead had communicated with each 
other much by means of signs and gestures. 
Hence the desires of man should now be pre- 
sented to them in the same terms. This is 
one reason why the savage, when he wants the 
gods or spirits to do something in his behalf, 
proceeds to dramatize (act out) his request, 
that is, to give a rehearsal of a hoped-for per- 
formance. When rain is wanted for the crops, 
a man will climb a tree, and out of a bucket 
pour a large amount of water on the ground, 
thus symbolizing the falling of the rain. Before 
going out on a hunt, he will go through the 
motions of kilHng the animal with the hope 
that the gods will see his actions and grant him 
success. If a man has an enemy whom he 
wishes to injure, he will make a small clay or wax 



24 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

image of him and fill this with nails, trusting 
that the actual body of the person will thus be 
filled with pain. This is known as imitative 
or sympathetic magic. ^ "Led astray by his 
ignorance of the true causes of things, primitive 
man believed that in order to produce the great 
phenomena of nature on which his life depended, 
he had only to imitate them, and that imme- 
diately, by a secret sympathy or mystic in- 
fluence, the little drama which he acted in forest 
glade or mountain dell, on desert plain or wind- 
swept shore, would be taken up and repeated 
by mightier actors on a vaster stage." ^ 

Thus we see that sympathetic magic forms 
the basis of a large part of the serious savage 
drama. It makes little difference what the 
savage wants, whether it be rain, food, or sun- 
shine, he feels that he can obtain it best by 
acting out his desires. 

Among most peoples, when a boy reaches the 

^ Henry's Travels Among the Northern and Western Indies, 
quoted by Rev. Jedediah Morse, Report to the Secretary of War 
of the U. S. (New Haven, 1822), Appendix, p.^ 102; Peter Jones, 
History of Ojibway Indians, p. 146; W. H. Keating, "Narrative of 
an Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River, (London, 1825), 
Vol. II, p. 159. This is common in some form among practically 
all peoples of the world. Theocritus, Dialog. II, no. 

2 Frazer, "Golden Bough," Vol. II, p. no; Barnett, "The Greek 
Drama/' pp. 2-3. 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 25 

age of puberty, the time has arrived when he 
should be taught the early history of his people. 
In the absence of records or texts certain of the 
older members of the totem, into which he is 
to be initiated, undertake his training. At the 
time when the spoken language was very limited, 
these legends of the past were acted out, and 
they became so impressed upon the mind of the 
youth that he never forgot them. The ritual 
and ceremony with which they were acted among 
some peoples extended over years, until each 
stage from the very beginning had been por- 
trayed. As the spoken language became more 
efficient, it came to be the custom for an older 
man to stand beside the boy and explain care- 
fully the significance of each movement of the 
actors. This is true even now in Australia, 
where a well-developed initiatory drama takes 
place, and here the interpretation includes not 
only the acting, but also the lines and music. 
Among the native Australians, practically the 
whole educational training of the youth is 
obtained through these plays. As will be shown 
later on, he is taught to hunt and fish through 
the graphic representations of certain hunting 
and fishing expeditions, although in these lines 
his most effective training comes through the 



26 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

actual hunting and fishing trips. The moral 
standards of the tribe are made clear to him by 
the acting out of those things which he should 
or more particularly what he should not do, 
and, as has been said, his historical education 
is obtained through the plays which picture for 
him the past.^ 

These totem ceremonies have another impor- 
tant function besides that of teaching the boys. 
In many other countries besides Australia the 
animal used as a totem by one group forms the 
food of another. And although the members 
of a group are not allowed to eat their own 
totem animal, they are expected to preserve 
a supply of that animal in the country.^ This 
they attempt to do by means of the sympathetic 
magic ceremonies, which, while being performed, 
serve the double purpose of teaching the boys 
and increasing the amount of food. If there 
happens to be a time in Australia when there 
are no initiation ceremonies being performed, 

1 G. F. S. Elliott, "Romance of Savage Life," p. 228. "Most 
native dances and songs are intended to point a moral or to be of 
the nature of a sermon. There is no history, geography or scientific 
literature amongst savages, so that dance and song are often tribal 
records or, indeed, of the nature of tracts." 

2 Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," 
p. 149. 



y 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 27 

and if the food supply is low, the totem plays 
are enacted merely with the hope that the 
animals will increase.^ 

The life of most savages is a continual struggle 
not only with nature, but also with men. The 
religious sympathetic magic ceremonies, which 
have been mentioned, shows his means of try- 
ing to overcome the unfavorable forces in the 
unseen world. In order to vanquish hostile 
man, he employs his war dances or plays. 
According to his way of thinking, these perform 
a double service. The first, again, is that of 
sympathetic magic. By acting out the process 
which they hope to use in exterminating their 
enemies, they are not only asking the assistance 
of the gods, but are beseeching them to employ 
such means to accomplish the result. The second 
purpose is to work the actors up to the highest 
pitch of excitement so that they will be able 
to rush into battle and display their greatest 
bravery in the face of danger. Of all the 
serious savage dramatic ceremonies this one alone 
directly produces concrete results. Warriors do 
indeed reach such a state, induced through these 
violent war dances, that they fight as though 
they were possessed of a supernatural spirit. 

^ Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," p. 167. 



28 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

Enough has been said, perhaps, to establish 
the fact that the drama plays an important 
part in the life of all savage peoples, and that 
there is hardly an incident of any importance 
which has not its dramatic ceremony. The 
desire to imitate is so deeply rooted in man that 
a considerable portion of his time is employed 
in satisfying this "instinct." Even at the very 
beginnings of human development, we find little 
dramas already well established. These primi- 
tive men had something to say, ideas to express, 
which, without the drama, would have been 
held back because their range of expression 
was otherwise so meagre. The dramatic desire 
asserted itself, and thus a broad field of expres- 
sion was opened up. The character and form 
of these unconscious savage dramas depend 
entirely upon the part of the world in which 
they are performed. No matter whence the 
examples are taken, whether from the Eskimos 
of the north, or the Bushmen of the south, 
the same fundamental elements always appear. 
The ceremonies are usually performed for ap- 
proximately the same reasons, and their number 
varies according as the belief in spirits is strong 
or weak, and as the struggle for existence is 
hard or easy. 



EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF DRAMA 29 

In the following pages there will be brought 
out more clearly by means of examples the 
predominant part which the drama plays in 
the less developed societies. It will then be 
seen that, instead of being merely a means of 
enjoyment, as in so many civilized communities, 
it has also more vital purposes to fulfill. Nearly 
every man and many women in a savage tribe 
have their special parts to take in the cere- 
monies, and to them the performance holds an 
important place in the struggle for existence. 
By collecting illustrations from all over the world 
and on all stages of early development, the sim- 
plest beginnings of a history of the drama may 
be supplied. We shall then be able to show 
that in the essentials of his drama the savage 
is not so far behind the more civilized man as 
has been thought. The same elements appear 
not only in this early drama but also in the 
drama of the Greeks and of the people of the 
Middle Ages. Then may we say that one more 
institution of society, among those which hold 
a prominent place among civilized peoples of 
to-day, has had its origin and early develop- 
ment among the primitive peoples scattered 
throughout the world. 



CEREMONIES CONNECTED WITH 
THE ANIMAL FOOD 



CHAPTER II 

CEREMONIES CONNECTED WITH 
THE ANIMAL FOOD 

AS a rule, the savage man is living on a 
very low scale of subsistence and his 
stock of capital is exceedingly small. 
Hence it takes only the slightest misfortune to 
deprive him of nearly all that he possesses. 
His tools and weapons are so crude that he is 
forced to work hard in order that he may sup- 
port himself. His food consists of the animals 
which he can kill, the fish obtained from the 
waters near him, the wild vegetation of the 
forests, and, in some few cases, of the small 
products of his own agricultural efforts. How- 
ever, the animal food is for him the more im- 
portant, for he has learned to kill where he has 
not learned to plant. The product of hunting 
is immediate success, while in agriculture, months 
pass before he can reap the reward of his labor. 
The wild roots, berries, and fruits which he can 
collect afford him neither the same nourishment 
nor physical satisfaction which he can get from 



34 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

meat. Of course, there are exceptions to this, 
as we shall see later on. Another reason why 
he was slow in developing agriculture was the 
fact that during the period of growth of the crops 
he had to obtain food and this quest carried 
him over such a wide area of land that it was 
impossible for him to tend and defend his crops. 
It was to the women who were obliged to stay 
within a smaller area that we owe, in all prob- 
ability, the development of agriculture.^ But 
hunting is at times precarious and unsatis- 
factory for the savage man. If he is living in 
a country such as Australia, where nearly all 
of his subsistence is obtained through hunting, 
and if, for some reason, the animals become 
scarce, there are several courses open to him 
out of his difficulty; starvation, migration, 
use of other foods than those to which he has 
become accustomed, invention or discovery of 
some new means of livelihood, or an appeal to 
the gods and spirits of the animals and of the 
hunt, whereby, he believes, the animals may be 
made to return. 

The instinct of self-preservation is so strong 
in savage man that he will not starve to death 
if he can help it. Migration for any great 

1 A. J. Herbertson, "Man and His Work," p. 59. 



^ 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 35 

distance from his present home is not normal, 
for he is inert, and anything requiring change 
and enterprise means pain. To stay where he is 
and try to get sustenance through an appeal to 
the gods and spirits is the course requiring the 
least exertion. And so at first he is impelled 
to take recourse to some religious expedient, 
and it is only after repeated failure that he is 
led to adopt one of the other courses. It is 
with a study of the ceremonies connected with 
the animal food supply that we shall now begin 
the practical illustrations of the primitive drama, 
because these ceremonies are fundamental in the 
life of nearly all savage peoples. 

In those countries, such as Australia and 
America, where the totem forms an important 
part in the religious and social life, the number 
of dramatic ceremonies is far greater than where 
the totem does not appear at all, or where it 
is of minor importance. The totems may be 
divided into two main classes: (i) the animal 
and plant, and (2) the natural elements, such 
as the rain and the sun. Every man belongs 
to one of these classes. In sections of the coun- 
try where animals form an important part of 
the food supply, animal totems are predominant. 
Those who belong to them are expected con- 



36 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

tinually to perform rites in order that the food 
supply may not fail.^ Where agriculture is 
chiefly depended upon for sustenance, the sun 
and rain totems play the leading roles. In 
fact, it would be possible to determine the stage 
of civilization upon which any primitive people 
were living if their food rites were known. As 
has already been indicated, the appeals are made 
to the gods and spirits through sympathetic 
magic; hence all of the ceremonies are of a 
mimetic character. Few people, regardless of 
their stage of development, picture in their 
theatre as much of nature as do the savages. 
Nearly everything that these aborigines portray 
deals with the matters of every day, so that in 
acting their plays, which have to do with the 
animal food supply, they feel that they are 
performing as real and important a function 
as though they actually went out and obtained 
food. 

As is the case in the modern drama, in the 
majority of the ceremonies there is one actor 
who takes the leading role. In tribes where 
the totem groups either do not appear at all, 

1 Spencer and Gillen, " The Northern Tribes of Central Australia," 
pp. 327, 149; "NativeTribesofCentral Australia/' pp. 167, 169,211; 
Lang, "Myth, Ritual, and Religion," Vol. I, pp. 65-66, 70; Webster, 
"Primitive Secret Societies," p. 161. 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 37 

or do not form an important element, this part 
is taken by the medicine man, who is supposed 
to be in constant communication with the gods 
and spirits. Among the AustraHans, where the 
totem idea is dominant, the head man of each 
group assumes the leading character; for it is 
he who, through long experience is able to fore- 
see just what the spirits of the animals demand 
in order that they may be so propitiated or 
coerced that they will appear. The minor roles 
are taken by the other members of the tribe, or 
totem group, as the case may be. 

In all of these ceremonies dealing with the 
animal food supply the women of the group 
play either a very minor part or none at all. 
This may be due to the religious idea that women 
are unclean and hence are not allowed to play 
an important part in the dealings of man with 
the spirit world. However true this may be, 
in these particular cases of the animal cere- 
monies there seems to be another and more 
logical reason. These dramatic religious cere- 
monies are the direct outgrowth of the tales of 
the day's hunt told around the camp-fire after 
an expedition. As the men and not the women 
were the ones who did the hunting, they of 
necessity took the various roles when the reli- 



38 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

gious element entered in and these hunt stones 
became ceremonials. 

In all of these plays the actors have been 
drilled in their parts from boyhood, so that they 
are able to reproduce the ceremony on any 
occasion without a change. It must not be 
forgotten that the rite has to be performed 
correctly, under penalty of ineffectiveness or 
worse. When it is remembered that the play 
has not been written down, and that the per- 
formers are obliged to keep in mind not only the 
exact action, but also the lines, songs, and music 
for a performance extending at times over several 
days, it will be seen that, in some respects, the 
mental capacity of the savage is not as limited 
as many persons are led to suppose.^ 

The holding of these ceremonies depends upon 
the season of the year. Many are associated 
with the breeding of animals, or the flowering 
of the plants, so that they must be performed 
within a well-defined period. In Central Austra- 
lia there is a dry season, often of great length, 
and a wet one of shorter duration and of 
irregular occurrence. The latter is marked by an 

^ Among the Maoris if a spell is recited in an incorrect manner 
(even to the dropping of a single word) it is believed to bring death 
upon the user. E. Tregear, "The Maori Race," p. 451. 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 39 

increase of animal and plant life which turns 
a veritable desert into a fruitful garden. It is 
just at the beginning of the wet season that the 
totem ceremonies are held, and for this reason 
they are always successful in bringing an abun- 
dant supply of food. At times of great drought, 
those who belong to the rain or water totem will 
hold a ceremony to bring the necessary moisture. 
If rain soon follows, they claim to have been 
successful, but if they fail, some distant group 
of men have wrought a counter influence.^ 

We have here a very good example of how a 
clever medicine man is able to hold his power 
over his more ignorant and superstitious fellow- 
tribesmen. He learns by a careful study of 
weather conditions when a storm is due and 
then holds a ceremony to bring the rain. When 
the rain comes he claims the honor of having 
brought it. If animals are needed for food, 
he discovers through scouts or other agencies 
where they are likely to be found and then has 
a ceremony performed, telling the people that 
by intercession with the gods through the mystic 
sympathetic magic rites the deities have been 
persuaded to grant his requests. The people be- 

^ Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," pp. 
169-170. 



40 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

lieve him and honor him for being such a holy 
man and are willing to grant him anything which 
he asks in return for his favors. Should he, 
however, fail repeatedly, it is very likely that 
he will be deposed from office as having lost 
his close connection with the spirit world. 

Not all savage peoples have dramatic cere- 
monies connected with the animal food supply. 
The Eskimos of the far north, for example, 
have but few ceremonies and this is probably 
due to their limited worship of the spirit of 
the animals, and to the scarcity of totem groups. 
Their life is so hard that they have little leisure 
time, and their houses are so small that they 
have no extra space to give plays. The amuse- 
ment of these people takes the form of story 
telling, of which there will be more to say later. 

But this does not mean that they are lacking 
in the power to imitate which was shown to be 
the basis of the drama. Imitation is called for 
by the very conditions of the case in hunting. 
The Eskimos dress in the skins of animals and 
mimic their actions, their skill in so doing really 
constituting a superiority in the chase. Thus 
the ability to impersonate becomes a vital ele- 
ment in self-maintenance and impinges upon the 
most primordial class of the mores. By means 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 41 

of this action a man can get very near to a 
seal by flopping along on the ice as he has seen 
the animals do.^ If he wishes to kill a polar 
bear he imitates the seal upon which the bear 
feeds and thereby entices it within gunshot.^ 
Among the Plains-Cree if individual hunters 
wished to obtain the buffalo they adopted the 
following means: one Indian disguising himself 
as a buffalo by means of a big robe would get 
on all fours and, imitating a calf, begin to 
bleat pitiably. The other Indians, wrapped in a 
white blanket to look like a wolf, pretended to 
attack him. The buffalo would come up to the 
succor of the supposed calf, and the hunters 
could then shoot those that they wanted.^ This 
dramatic means of getting food is very wide- 
spread over the world and occurs not only in 
America, but also in Australia ^ and Africa.^ 

The type of ceremonies which are here to be 
described falls under two heads: first, where 
only the animals come on the stage, and second, 

^ George Borup, Lecture, 

2 H. H. Bancroft, "Native Races of the Pacific States," Vol. I, 

p. 57. 

2 A. Skinner, "Political Organization, Cults and Ceremonies of 
the Plains-Ojibway and Plains-Cree Indians," Report Am. Mus. of 
Nat. Hist., Vol. XI, Part VI, 1914, p. 528. 

* Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," p. 20. 

^ Ratzel, "History of Mankind," Vol. II, p. 274. 



42 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

where both man and the animals appear. Both 
of these have the sympathetic magic basis in 
that they act out for the gods to see and imitate 
those things which the savage wishes to happen; 
but the second is a higher dramatic type than 
the first, for we perceive man with his plans for 
overcoming his prey and the accomplishing 
of his desire. 

In the first or lower type we observe the 
animals living in their haunts with no apparent 
purpose to their actions. It is hardly possible 
to determine which appeared chronologically 
first in the history of dramatic art, for both 
of them occur in neighboring tribes who seem 
to be at about the same stage of develop- 
ment. For our purpose here it is only neces- 
sary to note that the second is merely the 
first with the addition of man. Of course, it 
is possible to develop a plot with only the ani- 
mals, and we see one example of this coming 
from New Britain, but as a rule among savage 
peoples, there is not even the smallest vestige 
of purposeful action until the human element 
appears. Even then it is a long time before the 
plays have more than a single simple incident. 

As illustrating the first head we find that the 
Tasmanians had many dances which imitated 



/ 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 43 

the movements of animals. In the Kangaroo 
dance the men jumped or hopped around as they 
had seen the animal do. "In the Emu Dance 
the men went slowly around the fire, throwing 
their arms about to imitate the motions of the 
head of the animals while feeding. One hand 
behind would alternate with the other in front, 
coming to the ground and then rising above the 
head." ^ The people of the Prince of Wales 
Island hold what is known as the Crab Dance, 
in which a man assumes a crouching attitude 
with the upper arms horizontal and the fore- 
arms vertical.^ In New Britain the Hornbill 
Dance is strictly of totemic origin. A man 
comes forth dressed as the female bird, whose 
walk and other movements he mimics in every 
detail. After looking around for some time for 
her mate she at last finds him and they dance 
together.^ 

The love dance forms quite an important part 
in savage life and it appears among many 
animals. In this dance among the people of 
New Britain a myth of the totemic past is acted 
out and the men taking part go through the 

^ Bonwick, "Daily Life of the Tasmanians," p. 36. 

2 A. C. Haddon, "Head Hunters," pp. 188-9. 

' B. Pullen-Burry, "In a German Colony," pp. 204 ff. 



44 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

actions as though they were real birds. It is 
very probable that the idea which they have in 
mind is that by acting out the love dance the 
birds may do likewise and thus the number of 
young will be increased. In all of these we go 
back to the religious basis of sympathetic magic. 

Each group, in a primitive society which has 
an animal for its totem, goes through dramatic 
rites at various times of the year, similar to those 
described above. The sympathetic magic idea is 
dominant, although the exact form which the 
ceremony takes varies with the totem. It is 
perfectly clear that there is in each of these 
cases the simplest dramatic action. They are 
merely incidents of everyday life with no 
definite plot. The story of a hunt or the devel- 
opment of an insect from its earliest stages 
through the process of metamorphosis till it 
finally emerges full grown, are faithfully repro- 
duced by the actors. They are the thoughts of 
a simple mind told in a simple way. It is not 
until one reaches a fairly high stage of savagery 
that there begins to appear a very much 
more elaborate production. 

In a ceremony connected with the Witchetty 
Grub Totem of Australia, the principal performer 
takes the part of the insect. While sitting on 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 45 

the ground he gives an imitation of flying by 
waving his arms and bending his body forward 
and backward. He is supposed to be hovering 
over a bush as does the insect before it lays its 
eggs. Later the performer wriggles, imitating 
the fluttering of the insect when it first leaves 
its chrysalis case in the ground and attempts to 
fly.i 

A large part of the Witchetty Grub Totem 
ceremony is not performed in the camp but out 
on the hills, away from the gaze of the uniniti- 
ated, for it is thought that if the women and 
children should gaze on certain secret portions of 
the ceremony the efficacy of the entire perform- 
ance would be lost. Late in the afternoon the 
few men who are to take part steal away from 
the camp so that no one will know where they 
have gone, and march in single file up into the 
mountains, where they spend the night. Early 
the next morning they start out again, each man 
carrying in his hand a twig, the leader, however, 
having a small wooden trough. The path which 
they take is the historic one followed by the great 
leader of the Witchetty Grubs in the remote past. 
Finally they reach a small cave in which is a 
large block of quartzite surrounded by small 

* SpencerandGillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," p. i8o. 



46 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

round stones. The large stone represents the 
adult animal. The leader begins to sing and to 
tap it with his trough, while the other men tap 
it with their twigs and join in the songs, the 
burden of which is an invitation to the animal 
to lay eggs. After this ceremony has been con- 
tinued for a short time, attention is turned to 
the small stones, which represent the eggs. Soon, 
however, the men move on to another big rock, 
supposed to have been closely connected with 
their mythical ancestor. This they continue 
to tap while singing a song which consists of 
an invitation to the animals to come from all 
directions and lay eggs. Several other similar 
ceremonies are performed before steps are re- 
traced to the home camp, where the last act 
is to be carried out. 

While these men have been away, an old man 
of the totem, left in the camp, has built a long 
narrow house, which is intended to represent the 
chrysalis case, from which the fully developed 
insect emerges. As the camp comes into view, 
the actors stop and decorate themselves, paint- 
ing on their body with red ochre and pipe clay 
the design of the totem. Coming along slowly 
in single file, they at length reach the chrysalis, 
which they enter. When all are inside they be- 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 47 

gin to sing of the witchetty insect in its various 
stages. The music continues for a while and 
then, one by one, they shuffle out in a squat- 
ting posture, in imitation of the insect emerging 
from the chrysalis. The rest of the evening is 
taken up with singing songs of the Witchetty 
Grub.i 

In Zambezia a belief is held that the spirits 
of the dead are able to return and watch over 
their surviving relations in animal form. It 
frequently happens that one family will be 
unwilling to kill beasts of one kind for fear of 
hurting the spirits in them, and another group 
will hesitate before killing those of another 
species. This belief is particularly strong among 
the Wa-Tonga of the Barne, who still perform 
animal dances in which they imitate the voices 
and movements of those forms in which they 
think the spirits of their dead relatives may be 
sheltered.^ 

Turning now to the ceremonies under the 
second head, where both man and animals appear, 
we see that among the Kosa Kaffirs, before a 
hunting expedition goes forth, a dramatic rite 

^ Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia/' 
pp. 170 ff.; Haddon, "Magic and Fetishism," p. 42. 
^ R. C. F. Mangham, "Zambezia," p. 359. 



48 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

is performed which they consider absolutely 
essential for the success of the undertaking. 
One of the men puts a handful of grass into his 
mouth and then crawls around on all fours to 
represent the animal. The rest of the party 
chase him as though they would drive their 
spears through him, giving their hunting cry 
all the time. Finally the animal actor falls 
upon the ground as if dead. If this man after- 
ward kills any game, he can keep the claw, which 
he hangs as a trophy on his arm, but the animal 
must be shared with the rest.^ 

"Among the Mandan Indians, when the 
hunters failed to find the buffaloes on which 
the tribe depended for food, every man brought 
out of his lodge the mask of a buffalo's head and 
horns, with the tail hanging down behind, which 
he kept for such an emergency, and they all 
set to * dance buffalo.' Ten or fifteen masked 
dancers at a time formed the ring, drumming 
and rattling, chanting and yelling; when one 
was tired out he went through the pantomime 
of being shot with bow and arrow, skinned, and 
cut up; while another, who stood ready with his 
buffalo head on, took his place in the dance. 
So it would go on, without stopping day or 

1 J. Lubbock, "Origin of Civilization," p. 185. 



/ 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 49 

night, sometimes for two or three weeks, till 
at last these persevering efforts to bring the 
buffalo succeeded, and a herd came in sight on 
the prairie." ^ 

One of the totem plays in Australia repre- 
sents the chopping of an opossum out of a 
hollow log. The hunter, who is the chief singer 
and actor and who is assisted by other men, 
enters singing his hunting song, and, while look- 
ing around for the animal, finally discovers it 
in the log. After several ineffectual attempts 
to dislodge it with a pole, they have recourse to 
a fire, by which they hope to smoke it out. The 
result is that the animal is forced to escape and, 
while trying to reach the brush, is caught and 
killed. Not only the words of the song, but 
also the pantomimic dancing which accompanies 
the whole performance add greatly to the vivid- 
ness of the scene.^ 

In some parts of Australia this ceremony of 
the opossum totem is performed in a little dif- 
ferent manner from that described above. An 
old man, who is characterized by his leaning on 

* Tylor, "Anthropology," pp. 296-7; Gushing, "Zuni Folk Tales," 
p. xiv. Introduction; Catlin, "Annual Report of the Smithsonian 
Institute," 1885, Part II, pp. 309 fF.; H. Webster, "Primitive Secret 
Societies," p. 384 note. 

2 Howitt, "Native Tribes of Southeast Australia," pp. 423-4. 



so THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

a staff, goes out on a hunt for food. Finding 
an animal in a hollow log, he starts to chop it 
out, but his labors are interrupted by men taking 
the part of opossums. These have been hiding 
in the near-by brush. One quietly crawls out 
and gives the bare leg of the old man a scratch. 
He appears to be very much frightened to judge 
by the yell he gives and the caper he cuts as 
he turns to hit his annoyer with his stick. The 
animal dodges him and, running on all fours, 
lies down at the edge of the stage. The work 
has hardly started again on the log when a 
second opossum comes out and bites the leg. 
The man yells as he strikes the animal with his 
stick. So the performance goes on until all of 
the opossum-men are lying down by the edge 
of the stage. The old man then rushes over 
to them, shouts the word for "opossum," and 
leads the company in a dance around the fire.^ 
The Indians of New Spain often hold a dance 
which is a representation of the hunting of wild 
beasts. When they begin the dance, they talk 
to each other as though they were playing in 
a comedy, concerning the animals which they 
are about to hunt. The men are disguised as 
beasts by wearing the skins of mountain lions, 

^ Howitt, "Native Tribes of Southeast Australia," p. 545, 



/ 



"S 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 51 

jaguars, or wolves; others wear head coverings 
made from the head of an animal or from that 
of the eagle or other bird of prey. They carry in 
their hands pointed sticks, swords and hatchets, 
with which they threaten to kill the beasts which 
they pursue. At times it is a man who flees, 
as if he were being attacked by wild animals 
in the desert. The man who takes this role 
must be very agile and fleet of foot, hitting 
here and there as he runs away from the beasts 
that pursue him. At last the animals overtake 
him and pretend to devour him.^ 

The stage setting for some of these corro- 
boreesy or dramatic representations, is often very 
striking. A large smooth piece of ground is 
chosen for the stage; poles are set up with huge 
sheets of bark, usually painted with totemic 
designs, fastened between them. At one side 
is a large imitation of an alhgator or some other 
animal, made of logs plastered over with mud 
and painted with stripes of various colors. A 
piece of wood cut open and stuck in at one end 
serves for a gaping mouth. At the back and 
at each side of the stage are fires which serve 
as footlights. In a large semicircle in front, 
the women, who act as the orchestra, are seated. 

* Magnin, "Les Origines du Theatre Moderne," pp. 44-5. 



52 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

The music is made by beating time on a rolled- 
up opossum rug and by striking two boomerangs 
together. The time is faultless. Although the 
tunes are monotonous, they are rhythmical and 
musical, and seem curiously well suited to the 
stage and the players. "These latter have a 
very weird look as they steal out of the thick 
scrub, out of the darkness, quickly one after 
another, dancing around the stage in time to the 
music, their grotesquely painted figures and 
feather-decorated heads lit up by the flickering 
lights of the fires. As the dancing gets faster, 
the singing gets louder, every muscle of the 
dancers seems strained, and the wonder is that 
the voices do not crack. Just as you think they 
must, the dancing slows again, the voices die 
away, to swell out once more with renewed vigor 
when the fires are built up again and again; the 
same dance is gone through time after time — 
one night one dance, or for that matter, many 
nights one dance." ^ 

In the plays of savage man one point to be 
noticed is, that in the details they are true to 
life. If one had merely an accurate description 
of the savage drama it would be possible to 

1 K. L. Parker, "The Euahlayi Tribe," pp. 122-3; Spencer and 
Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," p. 178. 



/ 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 53 

draw a picture of their life, although no other 
details but those appearing in the drama might 
be at hand. The kinds of weapons which they 
use, their methods of fighting and hunting, how 
they instruct their young, and even many of their 
religious beliefs are brought out in their dramatic 
representations. It has been possible to con- 
struct a history of Homeric society from the 
Iliad and the Odyssey, taking those things which 
really formed the setting of the poems. ^ So, 
likewise, if it were necessary, one could obtain 
a history of the development of savage peoples 
through the plays which hold so important a 
place in their lives. 

It is often difficult to keep in mind the fact 
that in many of these seemingly comic plays 
the religious idea is strong, and that in the 
performance the men who take part are, for 
the time being, at least, almost priests of the 
animals which they are portraying. If these 
sympathetic magic rites are acceptable to the 
spirits, the people will be blessed with a more 
abundant food supply and thus will life be made 
a little easier in a difficult environment. 

The use of masks in the dances and drama of 

^ See Keller, "Homeric Society"; Seymour, " Life in the Homeric 
Age." 



S4 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

savage peoples is very widespread. For example, 
in the dances of the natives of Torres Straits, 
which are held for the purpose of assuring suc- 
cess on a hunting or fishing trip, the most extraor- 
dinary masks of tortoise shell are worn. The 
form of the mask is supposed to have much to do 
with the success of an undertaking, and so before 
a hunting trip they will wear only the mask of an 
animal and before a fishing trip that of a fish.^ 

Among the Eskimos of Behring Strait there 
is held a more or less dramatic feast, known as 
the "Inviting In" feast. During the dance 
which follows, masks are worn,^ which represent 
either the totem animal of the maker or some 
mythical fancy. The object of these faces is 
to propitiate and do honor to the animal or 
other being represented by them, with the hope 
that there will be a plentiful supply of game 
during the coming year, and that evil influences 
may be warded off. The spirits of the animals 
are invited to be present in order that they may 
enjoy the feast and the dances. 

^ C. H. Nead, "Some Spinning Tops from Torres Straits," 17 
J. A. I., p. 87, quoted by Levy-Briihl in "Les Fonctions Mentales 
dans les Societes Inferieures," p. 275; Haddon, "Head Hunters." 

2 Masks were not the original property of the Eskimos but have 
been borrowed from the Indians of the Northwest Coast. E. Grosse, 
"The Beginnings of Art," p. 189. 



/ 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 55 

The historical myth which gave rise to 
this ceremony is as follows. In early times 
it was thought that all animate beings had 
a dual existence, so that at will, they could 
become either man or animal. If an animal 
wished to assume its human form, it raised 
its arm, leg, or wing, and pushed up the 
muzzle or beak, as if it were a mask. The 
creature then became manlike in form and fea- 
tures. "This idea is still held, and it is believed 
that many animals now possess this power. The 
manlike form thus appearing is called the inna 
and is supposed to represent the thinking part 
of the creature, and at death becomes its 
shade. "^ 

At this ceremony of the ** Inviting In'' feast 
some of the masks worn by the dancers represent 
the totem animals, and the wearers are believed 
to become the creature represented, or at least 
to be endowed with its spiritual essence. In 
order to carry out the idea of the myth, the 
masks are made with double faces. "This is 
done by having the muzzle of the animal fitted 
over and concealing the face of the inna below, 

1 E. W. Hawkes, "The 'Inviting In' Feast of the Alaskan Eski- 
mos," Canadian Geological Survey, Memoir 45, No. 3, Anthropo- 
logical Series. Bureau of Ethnology Report, 1896-7, Vol. I, pp. 
394 IF.; E. W. Nelson, "Eskimo of the Behring Strait." 



S6 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

the outer mask being held in place by pegs so 
arranged that it can be removed quickly at a 
certain time in the ceremony, thus symbolizing 
the transformation. Another style of mask has 
the under face concealed by a small hinged door 
on each side, which opens at a proper time in 
the ceremony, indicating the metamorphosis.^ 
When the mask represents a totemic animal, 
the wearer needs no double face, since he repre- 
sents in person the shade of the totemic animal. 
When worn in any ceremonial, either as a totem 
mask or as representing the shade, the wearer 
is believed to become mysteriously and uncon- 
sciously imbued with the spirit of the being 
which his mask represents. Still other masks 
have wooden models of thumbless hands attached 
to their sides, the palms of the hands being 
pierced with large circular holes; these are usually 
found on masks representing birds, beasts, and 
spirits, having some connection with making 
game more or less plentiful." ^ Probably the 
holes indicate that the being will not hold the 
game but will let it pass through to the earth. 
In the Topeng ^ performance of Java, masks 

1 Lang, "Myth, Ritual and Religion," Vol. I, p. 149. 

2 Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1896-7, Vol. I, pp. 395 fF.; 
E. W. Nelson, " Eskimo of the Behring Strait." 

' Topeng means masquerade. 



/ 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES S7 

are worn by the players at all times except when 
they appear before a prince and then they dis- 
card them.^ As we will show later on, the earli- 
est form which we find in Java of the drama is 
that of the puppets. The same idea is carried 
out when human beings take the parts, for in- 
stead of speaking themselves a man reads the 
lines and the actors then come out and perform; 
and by the use of masks they are able to com- 
plete the puppet illusion. 

In the "No" plays of Japan we find a still i 
further reason for the use of masks. "Only 
men can act, and for the women's parts they 
wear the conventional masks with the white 
narrow face and the eyebrows painted high up 
on the middle of the forehead, which is the 
classical standard of female beauty. Masks are 
also worn by those representing demons or 
ghosts. They are made of carved wood with a 
slit for the mouth and two holes for the eyes." ^ 

It would be interesting at this point to pause 
and take up the widespread use of masks the 
world over, but space will only permit of the 
briefest mention. They are to be found among 
practically all peoples in the lower stages of 

1 G.A.Wilken, "Volkenkunde," Ch.V. 

2 M. C. Stopes, "Plays of Old Japan — The 'No'," P- H- 



5 8 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

civilization and even in so advanced a civiliza- 
tion as that of Greece at the time of the great 
dramatists they were used by all actors.^ The 
purpose, especially among the Greeks, was that 
the so-called stock characters should not change, 
and that the voice of the actor should carry 
better. A god was supposed to have one definite 
form and the goddess another. Grief was ex- 
pressed by one mask and joy by another. Not 
only each person, but also each emotion was 
expressed by the set face of wood and linen 
rather than by the actual countenances of the 
actors.^ Even to-day in our theatres, while 

^ Masks were sometimes used in the drama of the Middle Ages 
where a man took a woman's part. 

2 "Masks were generally made of linen. Cork and wood were 
occasionally used. The mask covered the whole of the head, both in 
front and behind. Caps were often worn underneath, to serve as a 
protection. The white of the eye was painted on the mask, but the 
place for the pupil was left hollow, to enable the actor to see. The 
expression of the tragic mask was the onkos, a cone-shaped prolonga- 
tion of the upper part of the mask above the forehead, intended to 
give size and impressiveness to the face, and used where dignity was 
to be imparted. It varied in size according to the character of the 
personage. The onkos of the tyrant was especially large; that of the 
women was less than that of the men. A character was not neces- 
sarily represented by the same mask throughout the piece. The 
effects of misfortune or of accident had often to be depicted by a fresh 
mask. For instance, in the Helen of Euripides, Helen returns upon 
the stage with her hair shorn off, and her cheeks pale with weeping. 
(Edipus, at the end of the (Edipus Tyrannus of Sophocles, is seen with 
blinded eyes and blood-stained face. In such case a change of mask 
must have been necessary. There are a few occasions in the extant 



y 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 59 

they do not use masks, yet there are typical 
makeups which serve the same purpose.^ 

The ideas which are current in the mind of 
the savage in regard to masks are somewhat 
different from those of the Greeks. We have 
noticed that the Eskimo thinks that the per- 
sonality of the individual whom the mask repre- 
sents passes into the wearer, so that his actions 

tragedies where a change of facial expression seems to be demanded 
by the circumstances, but was rendered impossible by the mask. 
Thus, in the Elektra of Sophocles, the heroine is unable to show her 
joy at her brother's return, and the poet has to get over this as best 
he can. He makes Orestes bid her show no signs of joy for fear of 
arousing suspicion, while she declares there is no risk of this, for 
hatred of her mother has become too ingrained in her for her expres- 
sion to change suddenly, and her joy itself will bring tears and not 
laughter." Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," pp. 244-5. 

^ "The contrast between the ancient and the modern actor is 
marked by nothing so conspicuously as by the use of masks. These 
masks, or similar devices, were a regular feature in the old Dionysiac 
worship, and were probably inherited as such by the tragic stage, and 
not invented to set purpose. With the growth of tragedy they soon 
acquired a new character. Thespis, the earliest of the tragic actors, 
is said at the commencement of his career to have merely painted his 
face with white lead and purslane. Later on he employed masks; 
but these were of a very simple character, consisting merely of linen, 
without paint or coloring. Choerilus introduced certain improve- 
ments which are not specified. Phrynichus set the example of using 
female masks. iEschylus was the first to employ painted masks, and 
to portray the features of a dreadful and awe-inspiring character. 
Though not the inventor of the tragic mask, as some ancient writers 
assert, he was the first to give it that distinctive character from 
which in later times it never varied in detail. After the time of 
^schylus there is no further mention of any radical alterations or 
improvements in the manufacture of masks." Haigh, "The Attic 
Theatre," p. 242. 



6o THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

for the time being are not his own but those of 
another. If the mask represents a spirit, either 
a fantastic one of their own imagination or one 
of a totem animal, the wearer will be imbued 
with its spiritual essence. At the Greek period 
of which we have been speaking, no such re- 
ligious idea was attached to the masks, and 
they were used merely to heighten the dramatic 
effect. 

Numerous other instances, however, could be 
added to those already given to emphasize more 
strongly the fact that there is a widespread 
geographical distribution of these dramatic cere- 
monies, connected with the animal food. ' From 
the Eskimo of the north to the Bushman of the 
south, and from the Australian of the east to 
the American Indian of the west, the imitative 
desire is forever asserting itself in a very signifi- 
cant manner. With them life is largely taken 
up with the struggle for existence, hence it is 
only natural that they should seize upon that 
which they hope will render them assistance in 
this fight. For them the dominant motive in 
all of these ceremonies is religious. Their whole 
life is so wrapt up with the imaginary environ- 
ment that they spend a good portion of their 
time in trying to obtain the favor of the other- 



J^ 



ANIMAL FOOD CEREMONIES 6i 

wise unfriendly spirits. These dramatic repre- 
sentations of the things which they desire seem 
to the savage mind to be eminently fitted to 
appeal to the spirits. A double purpose is 
served, for not only are the gods amused by the 
portrayal, but they are also induced to permit 
the desired request to be granted. As civiliza- 
tion advances the religious life comes to mean 
less and less to the people and a very much 
shorter time is spent in the ritualistic observ- 
ances. But on the savage stage, where we are 
making our study, the religious element is for- 
ever present in nearly all observances. 

We now pass to a consideration of the drama 
as expressed in the vegetation ceremonies. It 
was out of such rites as these that the Greek 
Drama developed; therefore the connection 
between the savage and the civiHzed theatre 
becomes here more apparent. 



y 



II 



CEREMONIES DEALING WITH PLANT 

FOOD 



/ 



CHAPTER III 

CEREMONIES DEALING WITH PLANT 

FOOD 

WE have tried to bring out in the last 
chapter through examples, how im- 
portant a part the animal food cere- 
monies play among a vast majority of the savage 
peoples. This can mean but one thing — that 
the food of the people is made up largely of meat, 
and for that reason they are willing to devote 
so much of their time to the sympathetic magic 
ceremonies in connection with its procuring. 
As man moves on from the hunting and cattle 
raising stages to the agricultural stage we find 
the animal ceremonies decreasing in number, 
but not entirely disappearing, for a people, 
although largely dependent upon the crops for 
sustenance, still use the animals for food. In 
the early stages of its development agriculture 
was looked upon as a woman's occupation,^ and 
so for that reason the men had little to do with 
it. As we said in the last chapter, the women, 

1 Lippert, "Kulturgeschlchte," Vol. II, p. 7; A, J. and F. D. 
Herbertson, "Man and His Work," p. 59. 



66 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

in order to obtain food while the men were away 
on the hunt, were obHged to gather the fruits 
and berries which grew near their camp. If 
the animals proved scarce and the men came 
home empty-handed, they were glad to take the 
food which the women had collected. As time 
went on, the women learned crude forms of 
planting and cultivation, and it was not until 
this stage that we find man's scorn changed to 
interest. Then it was that the dramatic rites 
in connection with the obtaining of vegetable 
food appeared, for men are the principal ones 
who communicate with the spirit world. 

There is, however, an exception to the state- 
ment that people who neither sow nor reap 
have no ceremonies in connection with these, 
for in Australia, although the people have no 
idea of sowing or reaping,^ yet they perform a 
few plant totem ceremonies. When these are 
enacted, the object is somewhat different from 
that seen in similar rites in other parts of the 

1 A.J.andF. D. Herbertson,"ManandHIsWork,"p. 59. "The 
Fuegians, Australians, Bushmen, and many tropical forest tribes 
have no idea of sowing or reaping. Their notions are limited to 
gathering such roots and fruits as they have found to be fit for food. 
Some Australian tribes go so far as to punish the uprooting of plants 
bearing edible fruits. They have realized the folly of recklessly de- 
stroying a permanent source of food, but have not yet thought of 
attempting to increase it by efforts of their own." 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES G'j 

world. There is here a double purpose. The 
first is, that the plants, which they themselves 
use for food, may be increased; the second, and 
the more important one, is that the plants used 
by the animals for food may be so plentiful that 
the beasts will neither move to some far distant 
place nor become so thin as to be unfit for food. 
In more civilized communities, where the cere- 
monies are held before the planting of the crops 
in the spring and at the time of harvest in the 
fall, the intention is so to appeal to the gods of 
vegetation that they will support the efforts 
which have been put forth by man in his en- 
deavor to increase the food supply. In Australia 
man exerts no effort as far as agriculture is 
concerned, but still the gods are asked to send 
an abundance of plants. The rain ceremonies 
are enacted not only with the hope that plants 
may be increased for man and the animals, 
but also that the water holes, from which the 
supply for drinking is taken, may remain so full 
that a migration to a new part of the country 
may not be necessary. 

In America, where agriculture among some 
tribes had reached a fairly high stage of devel- 
opment, there appeared ceremonies in connec- 
tion with the sun and rain. Two of these, 



68 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

namely, the Sun Dance of the Plains Indians 
and the Snake or Rain Dance of the Hopis, 
are the most famous of all the savage dramas. 
The all-controlling power of the sun and the 
rain were very early recognized, and so the 
growth of their rites occupied an important 
part in the lives of these people. 

One of the commonest types of the rain- 
making ceremony appears not only among 
many of the savage peoples, but also in various 
parts of Europe. A man, who is the rain-maker 
will go up a tree and sprinkle water on the 
ground to represent rain. A second will hit 
two stones together to represent thunder; and 
a third will strike a fire brand until the sparks 
fly in representation of lightning. This is as 
simple a sympathetic magic ceremony as can 
be found, but it has in it the basic elements of 
the drama — that is, imitation and action.^ 

Among the savage communities in America 
and elsewhere, where long periods of drought 
are likely to destroy the plant food, the "rain- 

^ A ceremony somewhat similar to this is found in Russia, W. 
Mannhardt, "Antike Wald — und Feldkulte," p. 342 (note); New 
Britain, R. Parkinson, "Im Bismarck Archipel," p. 143; Omaha 
Indians, J. O. Dorsey, "Omaha Sociology," Third Report Bureau 
Ethnology, 1884 (p. 347); Mexico, C. Lumholtz, "Unknown Mexico," 
Vol. I, pp. 180, 330; Swazi, "Southeast Africa," J. MacDonald, 
"Religion and Myth," p. 10. 



FOOD PLANT CEREMONIES 69 

maker" is a very important personage. It 
usually happens that he is the medicine man of 
the tribe and that the function of rain-making 
is merely one of his many duties. However, 
in places where disastrous droughts are likely 
to occur to the detriment of the crops and hence 
to the life of the people, a separate man is 
appointed for this position. He is held in the 
highest esteem by all the members of the tribe, 
for, as they think, it is upon his good will that 
all prosperity depends. As a rule, when rain is 
wanted, he goes through a very elaborate dra- 
matic ceremonial with the help of other members 
of the tribe. Still he does not usually begin 
until he determines beforehand by observations 
of weather conditions whether he is likely to meet 
with success. If he finds that there is no chance 
of rain he has some very good excuse why at 
that time he is unable to perform the ceremony. 
If he sees rain is imminent, he, along with those 
whom he has chosen to help, represents in a 
mimetic way the gathering of the clouds and 
the falling of the water. 

In the case of some peoples who have water 
for their totem, they act out the story of the 
wanderings of their ancestors, with the hope that 
the spirits will see their distress and grant relief. 



./i 



70 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

They feel themselves closely allied to the rain, 
and so for that reason if they are unable to 
produce it they think that there is something 
radically wrong. It will sometimes be the cause 
for a war with another tribe if the drought lasts, 
and they convince themselves that it has been 
brought about by a counter influence. As most 
of the rain ceremonies in Australia are very 
similar, it is necessary to describe only one. In 
this, as in nearly all other savage ceremonies, 
the sympathetic magic idea is dominant. 

At the time of a great drought the members 
of the Dieri tribe come together, and call in 
loud voices upon the Mura-Muras ^ for the 
power to make rain, telling them of the impov- 
erished state of the country and the impossi- 
bility of getting plant or animal food for the 
half-starved people. After this prayer, which 
corresponds roughly to the prologue, the real 
ceremony begins. A ditch is dug about twelve 
feet long, two feet deep, and from eight to ten 
feet wide. Over this they build a conical hut 
of logs covered with branches. The hut is 
only large enough to admit the old men, the 
younger ones being obliged to sit outside. Two 
men who are supposed to have special in- 

^ Mura-Muras = remote ancestors. 



J' 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 71 

spiration from the Mura-Muras are chosen to 
have their arms lanced. The operation is per- 
formed by an old and influential man with a 
sharp piece of flint. The blood is made to flow 
on the men who are seated in the hut. At 
the same time the two bleeding men throw hand- 
fuls of down into the air, part of which sticks 
to the blood-covered bodies of the old men of the 
tribe, and the rest floats away. This blood 
symbolizes the rain; the down symbolizes the 
clouds. During the ceremony, two large stones 
are placed inside of the hut to represent gather- 
ing clouds and to presage rain. The men, who 
were bled, carry away the stones to a distance 
of ten or fifteen miles, where they place them 
as high as possible in a tall tree. While they 
are gone the other men are engaged in pulveriz- 
ing gypsum, which they throw into a water hole. 
It is hoped that the Mura-Muras will see this 
and send the rain-bearing clouds. If no clouds 
appear, it is believed that the Mura-Muras are 
angry with them; and if no rain occurs for a 
long time, it is thought that a counter influence 
is being worked by some other tribe. 

The last act of this religious drama consists 
in destroying the hut. The old and young 
men rush at it and try to push it down with their 



72 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

heads. They force their way through to the 
other side, repeating the process till the hut 
is completely demolished. They are not allowed 
to use their hands except in the case of the very 
heavy logs. "The piercing of the hut with their 
heads symbolizes the piercing of the clouds; the 
fall of the hut, the fall of the rain." ^ In this 
ceremony, as performed among the Dieri, the 
play is carried on without singing and with very 
little dancing, but in Queensland these are added. 
There, after the men have gathered in the hut, 
they come forth dancing and singing. They go 
around a small pond which has been dug in 
front of the hut, mimicking the cries and antics 
of the various aquatic birds and animals, such 
as the ducks and frogs. During this part of 
the ceremony the women of the tribe have 
been stationed some little distance away. After 
the men have finished their animal dance, the 
women march around them in single file, and 
throw powdered quartz crystals over them. 
While doing this, the women hold over their 
heads such things as shields and pieces of bark, 

1 A. W. Howitt, "The Dieri and other Kindred Tribes of South 
Australia," 20 J. A. I., p. 91; A. W. Howitt, "The Native Tribes 
of Southeast AustraHa," pp. 394 flF.; S. Gason, "The Dieyerie 
Tribe, Native Tribes of South Australia," pp. 276 fF.; R. B. Smyth, 
"Aborigines of Victoria," Vol. I, pp. 467-8 (note). 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 73 

pretending that they are sheltering themselves 
from a heavy shower.^ 

The most famous of all the rain-making cere- 
monies which take place among savage peoples 
is that of the Hopi Indians. This has been 
called the greatest of our surviving religious 
dramas.^ It must be remembered that the Hopi 
Indians live in a very arid region, where every 
drop of rain is needed for their crops; accord- 
ingly, each of the seven villages holds a dance 
every two years, in the belief that it will add 
to the natural rainfall. These are the noted 
snake dances, which are of such striking simi- 
larity that it will be necessary to describe but 
one. 

The legend upon which the performance of 
the Snake Dance is based is as follows.^ The 
Zunis, Hopis, Paiutes, and the Havasupais made 
their recent ascent from the lower world through 
the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River, some 
going north and others south. Those that went 
into the cold region were driven back by the 

1 W. E. Roth, "Ethnological Studies among the North-West- 
Central Queensland Aborigines" (Brisbane & London, 1897), p. 167; 
J. G. Frazer, "Golden Bough," Vol. I, p. 255 (191 1). 

2 Major-General McCook, U. S. A., 8 American Anthropologist, 

P- 193- 

' J. W. James, "Indians of the Painted Desert," pp. 107 ff. 



74 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

inclement weather and so took up their abode 
at a place called To-ho-na-bi. This was a desert 
region where there was little rain and conse- 
quently but little corn. The chief of the vil- 
lage had two sons and two daughters. The 
older boy, Tiyo, determined to return, if pos- 
sible, to the lower world and there learn the way 
of obtaining the favor of the gods. He sealed 
himself into a coffin-like boat which was then 
placed in the river. After being tossed about 
for a long time he finally came to the home of 
the Spider Woman, who was able to weave the 
clouds and cause the rain to fall. She showed 
him the way to reach the chamber of the Snake- 
Antelope peoples. The chief received him with 
great kindness and taught him the ceremonies 
necessary to cause the rain to fall and the wind 
to blow. He v/as also taught how to make the 
various paraphernalia necessary for the dance. 
Before he left, he was given two women, one 
for himself and one for his brother. On their 
way back they stopped to see the Spider Woman, 
who put them in a basket so that they might 
return to the upper world. When Tiyo reached 
home, he announced that he would celebrate 
his marriage feast in nine days. Five days 
later the Snake people came from the Under- 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 75 

world, went into the kivas,^ ate corn pollen, 
and then disappeared. Tiyo, however, knew 
that they had only changed their appearance, 
and that they were still in the valley in the form 
of snakes and other reptiles. He ordered his 
people to go and capture them, and after they 
had been brought in, to wash them and dance 
with them. Four days were devoted to their 
capture — one for each of the four world- 
quarters. After the snakes were brought in 
and while they were being washed, they lis- 
tened to the prayers that were uttered. They 
then went out and danced with their human 
brothers. In the end, they were taken to the 
valley so that they might return to the under- 
world, carrying with them the petitions of the 
men on the earth. This, in brief, is the Snake 
legend, which is acted out in the dance. 

The whole performance of the Snake Dance 
takes about nine days, the first eight of which 
are occupied with the collecting and the pre- 
paring of the snakes as was done in the legend, 
the making of a certain charmed mixture which 
is supposed to have the effect of curing any 
bites which the performers may receive, and of 
making and blessing all the paraphernalia used 
in the big dance, which comes on the ninth 

^ Kiva = sacred hut In which preliminary preparations take place. 



76 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

day. Throughout all of these ceremonies there 
is much singing and praying in honor of the 
rain god. In the kiva there is an altar erected, 
upon which the hundred or more snakes used 
in the dance, are thrown after they have been 
washed and dusted with sacred meal. This 
altar is symbolic, and consists, for the most part, 
of a mosaic made of different colored sands. 
These sands are sprinkled on the floor, so as 
to form a border of several parallel rows or lines 
of different colors. Within this border, clouds 
are represented, below which four zigzag lines 
are made. These lines figure the lightning, 
which is the symbol of the Antelope fraternity. 
Black lines represent much desired and sup- 
posedly impending rain. The palladium of the 
fraternity, made of feathers and strings, is placed 
in the corner. Other things used in the dance 
are laid on different parts of the altar. 

On the ninth day, just before sunset, the 
crowning event takes place. A space of ground, 
preferably rock floor, comprising a few square 
rods, is chosen as the stage upon which the 
sacred drama is to be portrayed. At one side 
is built a sort of bower of trees about eight 
or ten feet in height and five or six feet in di- 
ameter. In front of the bower a hole is dug in 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES ^^ 

the ground, and over this is placed a board, 
which, when stepped upon, produces a hollow 
sound. This is symboHc of the entrance to the 
other world, and later, when the dancers step 
upon it, the purpose is to call the attention of 
their brethren below to the ceremonial about to 
begin. ^ Those taking part in the ceremony are 
members of the Snake and Antelope clans, usually 
about twenty in number. The dancers are cos- 
tumed for the occasion, and much paint adorns 
their faces. The Snake men carry whips in their 
hands, and bags of sacred meal, while the leader 
of the Snake Society whirls a buzzing stick. 

"The Antelope men are the first to appear 
within the court. They march four times around 
in a circle and take positions alongside the kisi^ 
facing outward from it. The Snake men then 
enter, marching in the same way as did the 
members of the other society and scatter sacred 
meal near the bower. Each man, as he comes 
along, stamps on the thick board already de- 
scribed. As has been noted, this is to attract 
the attention of the gods to the zeal and faith- 

* This stamping on a board is characteristic of the "No" plays of 
Japan, where the purpose was originally to call the attention of the 
sun goddess. M. C. Stopes, " Plays of Old Japan — The 'No'," p. 8. 

2 Kisi = a bower made of branches of trees erected on the dancing 
floor where the snakes are kept just before the ceremony begins. 



78 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

fulness of the performers. The Snake men then 
form in a line about six feet from the Antelope 
men and face them. The Antelope men lift and 
drop their feet in perfect time, thus produc- 
ing dull blunt sounds from the tortoise shells 
tied to their legs, and simultaneously shaking 
their suggestive hissing rattles; the Snake men, 
with arms linked and bodies swaying this way 
and that, give utterance to low deep chants. 

"A moment later the Snake men have broken 
their line and formed into squads of three, 
each consisting of a dancer, a wand-carrier, or 
hugger, and a gatherer. The Antelope men still 
remain in line. One squad after another marches 
around in front of the kisi. A serpent is handed 
by the keeper to a dancer, who has previously 
placed meal in his mouth. Seizing the reptile 
he takes it between his lips a few inches back 
of the head. The hugger places his left arm 
over the shoulder of the dancer and, with his 
right, waves his feather wand before the eyes 
of the snake to attract its attention and keep 
it from burying its poisonous fangs in the face 
of his companion. The two pass around the 
court, pursuing the same course as that pre- 
viously taken by the two orders. The gatherer 
moves along near by, keeping careful watch in 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 79 

order to pick up the serpent in case it should 
wriggle out of the mouth of the dancer. Other 
squads follow and soon there is a line of these 
performers moving round and round, the snakes 
twisting and wriggling and throwing their heads 
about in the air, the wands rapidly rotating and 
gyrating, the various shells and rattles producing 
a most doleful noise. When the snake becomes 
ungovernable, the dancer lets it drop from his 
mouth upon the ground and it is picked up by 
the gatherer. When one serpent has fallen 
from the mouth of the dancer, he with his hugger 
marches around at once to the kisi for another. 
This is continued until all the animals are carried. 
The gatherer, as well as the hugger, carries 
a wand, and if the snake which has been dropped 
to the ground coils to strike, he waves the wand 
above the maddened creature until it uncoils 
to run away, when he catches it around the 
neck and carries it with him. The gatherers 
carry bags of sacred meal, and scatter portions 
of the contents upon the animals, before seizing 
them. When the performers are going round 
and round with their strange talismans, the 
snake women stand just outside the Hne of march 
and throw sacred meal on each as he passes. 
As the serpents accumulate in the hands of the 



8o THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

gatherer so that he cannot conveniently handle 
them, he passes them over to the Antelope men, 
who hold them during the remainder of the 
ceremony. 

**The final act of this strange drama occurs 
a little later when the chief Snake priest draws 
a sacred meal circle some four or five feet in 
diameter and, within it, six radiating lines repre- 
senting the four cardinal points, the zenith and 
the nadir. With a rush the reptiles are piled 
within the ring. As they crawl and squirm 
about within the enclosed space, they form a 
comparatively level heap sometimes several 
inches in height. The men thrust their naked 
arms into the heap and drag out as many as 
their hands can hold, and rush with them out 
of the village down to the plains below, there 
to set them free."^ 

As we said at the beginning of this descrip- 
tion, the Snake Dance is the acting out of an 

^ Fynn, "The American Indian as a Product of Environment," 
pp. 212-226; G. W. James, "Indians of the Painted Desert," pp. 
103-117; J. W. Fewkes, "Snake Ceremonies at Walpi," Journal of 
American Ethnology and Archaeology, Vol. IV, 1894; "Hopi Snake 
Washing," ii American Anthropologist, p. 313; J. G. Bourke, 
"The Snake Dance of the Moquis of Arizona"; Dorsey and Voth, 
"Mishongovoni Ceremonies of the Snake and Antelope Fraternities," 
Field Columbian Museum Publication, Anthropological Series III, 
No. 3, 1902. 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 8 1 

old legend which was invented by the people 
to account for the phenomenon of rain, which 
had for them no scientific explanation. Most 
of the early myths had a deep religious sig- 
nificance and were closely bound up with the 
spiritual life of the people. Many have supposed 
that this Snake Dance is an act of serpent wor- 
ship, but this is not true, for the snakes sym- 
bolize to them the embodiments of the spirits of 
their ancestors from whom they obtained the 
knowledge of rain-making. In the propitiation 
of the Spider Woman at her shrine in the kiva 
by offerings of prayer and food, the chief Ante- 
lope priest expresses to her a desire for rain. 
**She is asked to weave the clouds, for without 
them no rain can descend. The lightning symbol 
of the Antelope priests; the shaking of the 
rattles, which sounds like the falling rain; the 
use of the whizzer to produce the sounds of the 
coming storm, — these and other similar things 
show the intimate association of the dance with 
rain and its making. 

"The use of snakes is for a double purpose. 
In celebrating this ceremony it is the desire of 
the snake clan to reproduce the original condi- 
tions of its performance as nearly as possible, 
in order to gain all the efficacy they desire for 



82 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

their petitions. In the original performance 
the prayers of the Snake Mother were the potent 
ones. Hence the snakes must now be introduced 
to make potent prayers. 

"The other idea is, that the snakes act as 
intermediaries to convey to the Snake Mother 
in the underworld the prayers for rain and corn 
growth, that her children on earth have ut- 
tered." ^ But it is even more than this — it is 
the essential element in their religious life and 
is to them as important as the mass is to those 
in the Roman Catholic Church. Their whole 
life is bound up with this ceremonial, and if any 
slip is made in the performance they expect to 
feel the wrath of the gods visited upon them in 
the form of a drought. 

Equally important for agriculture as the rain, 
is the heat of the sun. There are, however, 
comparatively few sun ceremonies amiong savage 
peoples, for the reason that most of them are 
living in a tropical or semitropical region where 
there is no lack of heat. Those who inhabit 
the far north have no agriculture, so that they 
have no special need either for the rain or sun.^ 

^ G. W. James, "Indians of the Painted Desert," p. 122. 

2 "On the geographical significance of sun-worship, D'Orbigny has 
made a remark, suggestive, if not altogether sound, connecting the 
worship of the sun not so much with the torrid regions, where his glar- 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 83 

Only among a few of the savages living in the 
temperate zone, where an even distribution of 
rain and sunshine is needed for the crops, do 
we find the ceremonies connected with the sun. 

On January 23, 1912, there took place at the 
Pueblo village of San Ildefonso, in New Mexico, 
a Buffalo Dance to the Sun God. "The dance 
in which several hundred Indians participated 
is of heathen origin, and is performed as it Was 
before the days of Columbus. The Indians say 
that no alteration has been made in the dance 
in a thousand years, and some of the masks and 
costumes used are hundreds of years old. The 
theme of the dance is an entreaty to the sun 
god to grant a year of plenty of game and corn. 
At dawn the bucks, disguised as buffalo, deer, 
antelope, and elk, marched in a single file from 
a gap in the mountains into a pueblo, where 
they joined the squaws in a measure, to the 
sound of a chorus of voices, and beat of cotton- 
wood drums." ^ 

ing heat oppresses man all day long, and drives him to the shade for 
refuge, as with climates where his presence is welcomed for his life- 
giving heat, and nature chills at his departure. Thus while the low 
sultry forests of South America show little prominence of Sun-worship, 
this is the dominant organized cultus of the high table-lands of Peru 
and Cundinamarca." E. B. Tylor, " Primitive Culture," Vol. II, 
p. 286. 

^ The New York Times, January 24, 19 12. 



84 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

The most famous of all these is the Sun Dance 
of the Plains Indians.^ This ceremony, which 
takes place as a rule during the summer months 
and has as its object the overcoming of certain 
hostile cosmic forces, abounds in symbols. The 
principal theme seems to be the attack upon the 
sun dancers, who defeat the solar god by their 
"medicine" and compel the "thunder bird" to 
allow the rain to fall. The dance is very often 
given as a vow in case of sickness, lunacy, or 
bad dreams, and is a sort of propitiatory offering 
by the one who wishes to be cured, to the great 
ruling power — the sun. 

Before the dance begins, there is a very elab- 
orate stage setting constructed, each part of 
which has a symbolic meaning. The following 
diagram describes this in a general way. 

A. Camp Circle, with the opening towards 

the East. 

B. Secret Tipi. Various secret rites by the 

priests take place in this tipi, such as 
smoking, fasting, praying and prepara- 
tion of objects that are to be worn 
during the public ceremony. 

C. Lodge. The selection of the centre pole 

is the most important part of its build- 

^ This dance takes place among the Cree, Siksika, Arapaho, 
Cheyenne, Assiniboin, Ponca, Shoshoni, and the Ute Indians. 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 85 

ing, for it represents the sun. After the 
completion of the lodge all the priests 
reside there until the end of the per- 
formance. 
D, Altar. This varies from a simple buffalo 
skull and pile on a cleared circle of 
earth, as among the Ponca, to a very 
elaborate arrangement, as among the 
Cheyenne. 

Norfh 




West f ^R ^^-^ r East 



South 
The Camp Circle symbolizes the constellation 
Corona Borealis, which is frequently spoken of 
by the plains tribes as the camp circle of the 
gods above. Again, the camp circle may be 
regarded as symbolizing the horizon, standing 
for the universe. The Tipi of Secret Preparation 
corresponds to the sacred mountain to which 
the originator of the ceremony repaired when 



86 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

in distress. In the course of the ceremony it 
is related that in the past during a period of 
famine a warrior wandered forth with a com- 
panion and encountered a god who taught them 
the ceremony. On their return to the tribe they 
caused it to be performed and this brought 
rehef and a boundless supply of food through 
the appearance of the buffalo — an animal which 
up to that time had never appeared. Hence 
the Sun Dance is the acting out of the life of 
some mythical ancestor, assisted by various sym- 
bolic articles which were supposed to play a 
prominent part in his life. If we look back for 
a moment to the Snake Dance, it will be noticed 
that in the legend there, a youth wanders away, 
reaches a mystic land where he learns the means 
of performing the necessary ceremony, and then, 
when he returns, teaches it to his people so 
that they are able to accomplish it. Many of 
the legends of the savages are supposed to have 
had divine origin, and the connection is made 
between this and the spirit world by some one 
who wanders to the latter and is there taught by 
the gods. This explains clearly why there is such 
a close relationship between myths and religion. 

The lodge itself represents this earth as the 
home of man. Its construction forms a very 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 87 

important part of the ceremony. A sacred tree 
in the forest is found, cut down, and set up as 
the centre pole of the lodge. It is in the fork 
of this pole that the nest of the thunder bird 
is supposed to be. The finished lodge is circular 
in form and from sixty to one hundred feet 
in diameter. The only opening is towards the 
east. When it is finished the priests abandon 
the Tipi of Secret Preparation and take up their 
quarters in the new lodge for the rest of the 
ceremony, which, from the beginning of the 
secret preparation to the end, lasts eight days. 

The altar is a cleared circle of earth with a 
buffalo skull in the centre. Around this are 
curious "sand paintings" — that is, sands of 
different colors are arranged in various mystic 
patterns. Green bushes and young trees are 
stuck in the ground around the altar. 

Before the dance begins, the priests decorate 
the bodies of those who are to take part. The 
designs which are used are symbols of the sun, 
the moon, and the morning star. Around their 
heads, waists, wrists, and ankles the dancers 
wear wreaths, which are emblems of the sun. 
Four of the old men who take part in the per- 
formance are supposed to represent the four 
quarters of the earth. 



I 



88 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

Among the Arapahoes before the beginning of 
the dance the following prayer is offered to the 
Sun. "My Grandfather, Light of the World, 
Old Woman Night, My Grandmother, — I stand 
here before this people, old and young. May 
whatever they undertake to do in this ceremony 
and may their desires and wishes and anxieties 
in their everyday life, meet with your approval 
— may the growing corn not fail them, and may 
everything they put in the ground mature, in 
order that they may have food and nourishment 
for their children and friends. May whatever 
light comes from above, and also the rain, be 
strengthened to them, that they may live on 
the earth under your protection . . ." ^ 

The various portions of this dramatic Sun 
Dance deal with the legends of the past. The 
forces of nature are personified and the continual 
struggle for mastery between them is graphically 
portrayed. During one part of the dance the 
actors form in line and blow whistles made from 
the wing bone of the eagle. This accompanies 
the song of the musicians, who are seated about 
a large drum at the entrance of the lodge. 
It is supposed to be symbolic of the breath 

^ G. A. Dorsey, " Arapaho Sun Dance," Field Museum, Anthropo- 
logical Series IV, 1903, p. 36. 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 89 

of life, and to represent the cry of the thunder 
bird. 

Portions of the dance which used to be con- 
sidered essential, but which have lately been 
abolished by the United States Government, 
were the various tortures which were endured. 
An Indian would fasten into the flesh of his 
breast the ends of two rawhide thongs which 
hung from the top of the sacred pole. Through 
the flesh of his back and hips knives were thrust 
and through the four holes thus made, short 
thongs were passed and securely fastened to the 
flesh. To the end of each of these thongs a 
buflTalo skull was tied, which dragged on the 
ground. The purpose of the warrior was to 
dance around until the thongs were torn from 
his breast, and when thus released, to continue 
dancing until the heavy skulls had pulled the 
other thongs loose from his bleeding back and 
thighs. His friends and family, mad with reli- 
gious zeal and enthusiasm, danced around him, 
chanting songs and urging him to bear his suf- 
fering bravely. This self-inflicted torture is a 
penance and is done in order that special favors 
may be obtained from the gods.^ 

* G. A. Dorsey, 30 Bulletin, Bureau of Ethnology, Vol. II, p. 651; 
H. L. Scott, "Notes on the Kado, or Sun Dance, of the Kiowa," 13 



90 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

A religious drama such as this, with its music, 
dancing, and symbolism, is not very far removed 
from the plays of the early Greek period. There 
the myths of the gods of vegetation were acted 
out; here among the Indians the legend in 
connection with the Sun and the other elements. 
They both show the striving of a mind unde- 

American Anthropologist, p. 345; L. Farrand, "Basis of American 
History," pp. 138 fF.; A. J. Fynn, "The American Indian as a Product 
of Environment," pp. 185 fF.; G. A. Dorsey, "Arapaho Sun Dance," 
Field Museum Anthropological Series, Vol. IV., Chicago, 1903; 
A. C. Fletcher, "The Sun Dance of the Ogalalla Sioux," Proc. 
A. A. A. S., Vol. 31, 1882, pp. 580 ff.; G. H. Pond, "Dakota Sun 
Dance," Minn. Hist. Coll., Vol. II, pp. 166 ff.; J. O. Dorsey, "A 
Study of the Siouan Cults," Report Bureau Ethnology, Vol. II, "The 
Sun Dance," pp. 450 ff. 

The Hartford Times, Nov, 15, 1913. "The federal government 
has decided not to permit in the future this most important of all the 
ceremonials of the plains tribes. It contends that such performances 
have a tendency to 'retard the moral and material welfare' of the 
Indians." The missionaries thought that the performance was 
heathenish, and that it tended to delay the progress of Christianity 
among the plains tribes. So it is that little by little the dramatic 
ceremonies of the savages are being pushed aside by the rapid advance 
of civilization, and it is only the matter of a few years when these 
ceremonies will have become merely memories. Indian Office Regu- 
lations, Art. 4, Section 584. "The 'sun dance,' and all other similar 
dances and so-called religious ceremonies, shall be considered 'Indian 
offenses,' and any Indian found guilty of being a participant in any 
one or more of these 'offenses' shall, for the first offense committed, 
be punished by withholding from him his rations for a period not 
exceeding ten days; and if found guilty of any subsequent offense 
under this rule, shall be punished by withholding his rations for a 
period not less than fifteen days nor more than thirty days, or by 
incarceration in the agency prison for a period not exceeding thirty 
days." 



PLANT FOOD CEREMONIES 91 

veloped, first, to account for the natural phe- 
nomena, and second, to appeal to the ruling 
spirits for some of the necessaries of life. It 
is only a step from the time when the religious 
element is predominant to the time when this 
disappears entirely, leaving a play which is 
performed for the pleasure which it gives to the 
actors and spectators. 

In the religious myth plays of the savages 
which have been described in this chapter, we 
have the connecting link between a low and a 
high stage of culture, or rather between the 
highest of a low stage and the lowest of a high 
stage. At this point of union, agriculture forms 
one of the chief sources of the food supply and 
it is little wonder then that around this there 
should be woven a vast network of myths and 
legends, the purpose of which is to account by 
pseudo-scientific means for the otherwise unex- 
plainable phenomena, and at the same time 
enroll the spiritual element of. the other world 
on the side of struggling man. It was out of 
the personification of these forces, as combined 
in the all-fertilizing power of the sun, that the 
drama of the Greeks and that of the Japanese 
grew. A comparison of the origin and devel- 
opment of the dramas of the savages, the Greeks 



92 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

and the Japanese, will be dealt with somewhat 
at length in the next chapter. 

From this chapter it is evident that as people 
move from the hunting or a partial hunting 
stage to the agricultural, the number of cere- 
monies in connection with plant food greatly 
increases. As we have seen, those peoples whose 
life is devoted to hunting have many ceremonies 
in connection with the animals. If plants 
enter to any extent into their food supply, they 
have a few more or less dramatic rites for the 
purpose of increasing the store of them. But 
where agriculture plays an important part, as 
in North America, the ceremonies are very 
numerous. The spirits of the dead seem to 
occupy those things which form the chief means 
of subsistence for the living man, whether it 
be animal or plant, and hence are appealed to 
in order that through their beneficent influence 
the people may not starve. 



POINTS OF COMPARISON BETWEEN 

THE SAVAGE DRAMA AND THAT 

OF THE GREEKS AND 

JAPANESE 



I 



CHAPTER IV 

POINTS OF COMPARISON BETWEEN 

THE SAVAGE DRAMA AND THAT 

OF THE GREEKS AND 

JAPANESE 

CONSIDERABLE light may be thrown 
on the drama of civilized peoples by 
comparing the legends, myths, and plays 
of the higher culture with the ceremonies and 
dramatic rites of savages. The basis of com- 
parison lies in the myths, for in them we see 
the strivings of minds, simple and uninstructed, 
to account for the phenomena of nature. In 
this connection Lang says, "Just as Socrates in 
the Platonic dialogues recalls or invents a myth 
in the despair of reason, so the savage has a 
story for answer to almost every question that 
he can ask himself. These stories are in a sense 
scientific, because they attempt a solution 
of the riddles of the world. They are in a sense 
rehgious, because there is usually a super- 
natural power, a deus ex machina of some sort, 



96 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

to cut the knot of the problem. Such stones, 
then, are the science, and to certain extent the 
rehgious tradition, of the savages." ^ 

A detailed description of the rise of the nature- 
myths in Greece, or of their development through 
their various stages until they appear in the 
plays as written by ^schylus, Sophocles, Eu- 
ripides, and Aristophanes is not germane to the 
topic before us. They probably arose through 
the worship of the gods of vegetation or pos- 
sibly through the worship of the sun, and in 
their onward march they served to explain the 
change of the seasons, the fruition of the crops, 
and the fertility of the vine. The god who 
appeared with the greatest regularity in these 
myths was Dionysus, in honor of whom the 
plays were written.^ He has been thought by 
various writers to have been a personification 

* Lang, "Myth, Ritual, and Religion," Vol. I, p. 49. 

2 In Egypt, that country which was so greatly admired by the 
Greeks, among other reasons because of its religious development, 
there were performed many rites in connection with Isis and Osiris; 
and it was not until these gods were accepted by the Greeks, in modi- 
fied forms (Dionysus and Adonis), that there appears any ceremony 
which can truly be called dramatic. 

That the Greek Dionysus was nothing but a slightly disguised 
form of the Egyptian Osiris has been held by Herodotus in ancient 
and by Mr. Foucart in modern times. See Herodotus, Vol. H, 
p. 49; P. Foucart, "Le Culte de Dionysus en Attique" (Paris, 1904); 
Frazer, "Golden Bough, Adonis — Attis — Osiris," p. 344 note. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 97 

of the sun, or of the seasons, or of vegetation in 
general, or, finally, of the vine.^ It is important 
to notice here that among some savage peoples 
the cult of the sun god and of various vegetation 
gods forms the basis for a large number of their 
dramatic rites. In fact these rites were but a 
specialized part of the ritual. The purpose in 
both the high and low civilizations was the same, 
namely, to act out the myths so that the spirits 
would understand the exact nature df the re- 
quests and at the same time, by reason of their 
anthropomorphic characters, receive pleasure at 
the performance. 

While the myth was the subject-matter com- 
mon to the drama of the savage as to that of 
the G^eek, it was the dance which united these 
two on the basis of action. It is possible to 
point out a great many survivals of the savage 
drama in even the highest stage of the Greek 
drama. This can be done more readily, since 

^ For a full discussion of the rise and development of these myths 
see: Lang, "Myth, Ritual, and Religion," Vol. I; Frazer, "Golden 
Bough — Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild"; Barnett, "The 
Greek Drama"; Foucart, "Le Culte de Dionysus en Attique"; 
Frazer, "Adonis, Attis, Osiris"; Sumner, "Folkways"; Harrison, 
"Ancient Art and Ritual"; Haigh, "The Attic Theatre"; L. Camp- 
bell, "Religion in Greek Literature"; Donaldson, "Theatre of the 
Greeks"; Aristotle, "Poetics," IV, 12; Harrison, "Themis"; 
Buckham, "Theatre of the Greeks." 



98 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

the highest Greek drama still dealt with the 
myths. Of course the more sophisticated race 
infused in these myths, elements and interpre- 
tations that could not have been the product of 
anything short of a developed civilization. But 
a similar comparison with later literature, such 
as the Elizabethan drama, would be less pro- 
ductive, because the latter is much further 
advanced in both subject-matter and mode of 
handling. Naturally the greatest weight is to 
be laid upon the earlier stages of the Greek 
drama rather than the later. 

A number of peoples who worship a god of 
vegetation and fruition express the idea of 
spring, the awakening of new life, by lively 
actions. This they do in the dance. We know 
that most of the savage drama is danced; in 
fact, this desire for lively rhythmical action is 
implanted in man as deeply as is the dramatic 
desire, and there are no races, even on the lowest 
scale of social development, who do not exhibit 
it. They also have many dances which are not 
of a mimetic character but which may be termed 
gymnastic,^ and consist in jumping about with 
movements more or less rhythmical.^ In this, 

* Grosse, "The Beginnings of Art," p. 207. 

2 This latter fact comes about through the very physical make-up 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 99 

too, the Greeks were proficient, for many of the 
dances around the altar of the god were not 
mimetic, but were performed much as are some 
of the dances of a savage people, around the 
graves of the dead or around their camp fires 
at night. 

Dancing remained an important feature 
throughout the entire evolution of Greek dra- 
matic art, although many of the other elements 
which appeared in its early history had entirely 
vanished by the time of the great dramatists. 
In this later stage the poetry was the principal 
feature of the performance, while the music and 
dancing were subordinate. Moreover, dancing 

of man. His heart beats In a rhythmical way and when he walks 
there is a regular rhythm to his step. Practically all of the reports 
which come to us concerning the music and dancing of the savages 
agree on the fact that they are rhythmical, although they may be far 
from possessing those qualities of beauty which appeal to the eye and 
ear of a civilized man. Grosse says, "This enjoyment of rhythm is 
without doubt deeply seated in the human organization. It Is, 
however, an exaggeration to say that the rhythmical is always the 
natural form of our movements; however, a large portion of them, 
particularly those which serve In making a change of place, are exe- 
cuted naturally in rhythmical form. Further, every stronger emo- 
tional excitement, as Spencer has justly observed, tends to express 
itself in rhythmical movements of the body; and Gurney adds the 
pertinent remark that every emotional movement is in and of itself 
rhythmical. In this way the rhythm of the motions of the dance 
appears to be simply the natural form of the movements of loco- 
motion sharply and powerfully exalted by the pressure of emotional 
excitement." "The Beginnings of Art," p. 223. 



lOO THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

was seldom introduced by itself as a mere spec- 
tacle; it was mainly used in combination with 
singing, to interpret and add vividness to the 
words of the song. The music, the poetry, and 
the dancing were blended together into one 
harmonious whole, each part gaining an advan- 
tage by its combination with the other two.^ 
Most, if not all, of the choruses were accom- 
panied by dances of one sort or another. To 
the Greek mind there was an inseparable con- 
nection between song and dance, and the notion 
of choral singing unaccompanied by dancing 
would have appeared strange and unusual. The 
two arts had grown and developed simultane- 
eously, as appears from the fact that man);- of 
the technical terms in metrical phraseology 
referred originally to the movements of the 
dance. For instance, the smallest division of 
a verse was called a "foot." A verse of two feet 
was styled a '* basis" or ^'stepping." The words 
** arsis" and ** thesis" originally referred to the 

raising up and placing down of the foot in 

* 

1 "We easily understand that music, dancing, acting and poetry 
were originally combined, none of them existing in the shape which 
characterizes it at present. Among people who stood on a low level 
of civilization, these arts worked collectively in shouting, singing, 
acting, talking and jumping." K. Mantzius, "A History of Theat- 
rical Art," Vol. I, p. 3. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS loi 

marching and dancing. These terms show how 
closely the two arts of dancing and singing were 
associated together in ancient Greece.^ 

The mimetic dance appears for a long time as 
a survival. "Occasionally,'* says Haigh,^ "the 
long descriptive speeches delivered from the stage 
were accompanied with a mimetic dance on the 
part of the chorus. The events described by 
the actor were represented in dumb show by the 
choreutae. ... Some of the postures or figures 
in the tragic dance are mentioned by the ancient 
writers. One of them represented a man in 
the act of thrusting with the sword; another 
depicted a man in an attitude of menace, with 
clenched fist. The rest are a mere list of names 
of which the meaning is uncertain. But it is 
plain from the existence of such lists that the 
art of tragic dancing was reduced to a regular 
system, and that the various attitudes and 
postures were taught in a methodical manner. 

"The purpose, then, of ancient dancing was 
to represent various objects and events by means 
of gestures, postures, and attitudes. In this 
kind of mimicry the nations of southern Europe 
are particularly skilful, as may be seen at the 

1 Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," pp. 311 ff. 

2 Ibid.y pp. 311 fF. 



I02 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

present day. The art was carried by the Greeks 
to the highest perfection, and a good dancer 
was able to accompany a song with such expres- 
sive pantomime as to create a visible picture 
of the things described. Aristotle defines danc- 
ing as an imitation of * actions, characters, and 
passions by means of postures and rhythmical 
movements/" ^ 

Contrasting then the dance in the drama of 
the savages and of the Greeks, we may say that 
in the first it dominated the whole performance, 
but in the second it was subordinate to the more 
important action. 

It is very probable that in the early religious 
history of Greece, as among the more primitive 
of the savages, all the people took active part 
in the dramatic dances around the altar.^ When 
the rites and the dances became more compli- 
cated, that is, when they reached that stage 
where they had to be performed in exactly the 
same way every time or lose their efl&cacy, it 
was impossible for the common people to partici- 
pate in them to any great extent and so there 
came to be certain men who specialized in this 
part of the service of the gods.^ These men 

^ Aristotle's definition is to be found in " Poetics," II. 
2 Donaldson, "Theatre of the Greeks," p. 242. 
' Harrison, "Ancient Art and Ritual," p. 126. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 103 

did not constitute a priestly class, as we under- 
stand the word, although they did act in some 
degree as intermediaries between the gods and 
man at the time of the festival and plays. ^ 

For a long time in the early history of the 
Greek religious drama there were really no actors 
in our sense of the word, for the chorus were the 
only performers. Later the actors were evolved 
out of the chorus by a selection of those who 
were most capable. Such reciters-in-chief, natu- 
rally, as elsewhere in the world, added ^ imper- 
sonation. This developing histrionic ability later 
became the important item in the selection, with 
the result that the chorus sank to a less impor- 
tant position than they had held before. The 
actors of the later period were chosen for their 
acting talent, although one performer was some- 
times the author of the play. The distinction 
between actor and chorus is brought out in 
the fact that the chorus was chosen and paid by 

* A. E. Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," p. i (3d ed.). "By degrees, 
as the songs and dances of satyrs adopted fixed forms and rhythms, 
their performance claimed more especial training and particularly 
qualified artists. Thus the Bacchic chorus came to form a kind of 
staff of professional singers and dancers." K. Mantzius, "A History 
of Theatrical Art," Vol. I, p. 98. "A dramatic performance was a 
religious act; therefore those who took part in it were considered as 
the servants of religion, as a kind of priests." K. Mantzius, Vol. I, 

P- 175- 

* The priests in the Church of the Middle Ages did this. 



I04 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

the choregus,^ while the actors were hired by the 
state. "The term *hypokrites' or * actor' was 
never applied to a member of the chorus. It 
was not even applied to all the performers upon 
the stage, but only to such of them as took a 
prominent part in the dialogue. The various 
mute characters, such as the soldiers and attend- 
ants, and also the subordinate characters who 
had only a few words to say, were not dignified 
with the title of * actor.' In the second place 
it should be remembered that the Greek actors 
invariably wore masks, and were consequently 
able to appear in several parts of the same per- 
formance. When, therefore, it is said that in 
the early history of Greek tragedy only a single 
actor was employed in each play, this does not 
imply that the number of characters was lim- 
ited to one. All it implies is, that only one 
character could appear at a time. The number 
of actors in a Greek play never exceeded three, 
even in the latest period." ^ 

^ The choregus not only paid for the chorus but also bore the 
expense of producing the plays. In the earlier history he may have 
taken part in the plays but it is certain that in the later time he was 
merely the active patron. Donaldson, "Theatre of the Greeks," 
p. 242. In Australia (Ch, VII, p. 227) and on the Andaman Islands 
(Ch. VII, p. 230 note) there was a single individual who performed 
these functions, but he was also the stage manager. 

2 Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," p. 221. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 105 

Among the Greeks the acting profession was 
looked upon as a noble calling and the members 
were honored in every way.^ If we recall the 

^ "Even as early as the fourth century B.C. the members of the 
theatrical profession formed guilds for the protection of their personal 
rights and interests. These guilds included not only actors, but also 
dramatic authors, choreutai, teachers of the chorus, musicians, even 
persons of whom costumes were hired. Through their union these 
corporations gradually obtained considerable privileges and special 
favors for their members. Thus actors had the right at any time to 
go to foreign, even to hostile states, to play comedies, and even in 
times of war their persons and property were sacred and inviolable. 
Later, the guilds also succeeded in obtaining immunity from military 
service for their members, a favour which had long been refused, but 
which they thought was their due on account of the religious char- 
acter of their profession. A decree granting these privileges was 
passed by the council of the Greek federation, and a copy of it, en- 
graved on stone, was erected in the Theatre of Dionysus at Athens. 
Some of the items of this remarkable decree, which is fortunately 
preserved, ran as follows: It has been resolved by the Amphictyonic 
Council that security of person and property, and exemption from 
arrest during peace and war, be ensured to the artists of Dionysus at 
Athens; . . . that they enjoy that exemption from military service, 
and that personal security which have previously been granted to 
them by the whole Greek nation; that the artists of Dionysus be 
exempt from military service, in order that they may hold the 
appointed celebrations in honour of the gods at the proper seasons, 
and be released from other business and consecrated to the service of 
the gods; that it be unlawful to arrest or seize an artist of Dionysus 
in time of war or peace, unless for debt due to a city or a private per- 
son; that if an artist be arrested in violation of these conditions, the 
person who arrests him, and the city in which the violation of the law 
occurs, be brought to account before the Amphictyonic Council; 
that the immunity from service and personal security which are 
granted by the Amphictyonic Council to the artists of Dionysus at 
Athens be perpetual; that the secretaries cause a copy of this decree 
to be engraved on a stone pillar and erected in the temple, and another 
sealed copy of the same to be sent to Athens, in order to show the 



lo6 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

examples which have been given, we shall re- 
member instances which show that the leading 
men in the primitive tribe, clan or totem, took 
part in the dramatic performances. "In Athens 
players were not infrequently sent as representa- 
tives of the republic on embassies and deputa- 
tions. They were, however, as a body, men of 
loose and dissipated character, and as such were 
regarded with an unfavorable eye by the moral- 
ists and philosophers of that age. ''^ One great 
difference which we find arising between the high 
and low stages of culture is that the actors in 
Greece had no other vocation, while in many of 
the savage communities the actors were not dif- 
ferentiated as regards the pursuit of the struggle 
for existence from their fellowmen; the Greek 
actors could specialize because the state main- 
tained the theatres ^ at its own expense. The 
medicine man, who often took the leading roles 
in the religious dramas of the savages, was sup- 
Athenians that the Amphictyonic Council are deeply concerned in 
the observance of religious duties at Athens, and are ready to accede 
to the requests of the artists of Dionysus, and to ratify their present 
privileges and confer such other benefits upon them as may be pos- 
sible (Haigh's translation, 'Attic Theatre,' p. 253)." Mantzius, "A 
History of Theatrical Art," pp. 176-8. 

1 Buckham, "Theatre of the Greeks," pp. 222 fF.; Haigh, "The 
Attic Theatre," pp. 279 fF. In Roman times the actors were held in 
contempt. Chambers, "The Mediaeval Stage, Vol. I, pp. 7 fF. 

2 Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," p. 4. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 107 

ported by the community as a whole, but he 
was the only one, and this support was not 
official. 

Both in Greece and with the savages the 
acting profession was confined entirely to men. 
In Greece the reason was that the carriage and 
voice of women could not give suitable energy 
to the heroines of tragedy.^ This was not the 
reason why women among the savages did not 
take part; it was rather because women were 
thought unclean and hence could not participate 
in a religious observance.^ However, they were 
allowed to assist off the stage by singing and 
playing while the men did the acting. 

One very striking difference between the drama 
of the savages and that of the highest Greek 
period is the fact that in Athens the plays, 
written for the two Dionysiac festivals, which 
occurred each spring and each winter, were 
performed only once and then were thrown 
aside to be given in the country villages, while 
among the savages the performances were in- 
cessantly repeated. In Greece the result of this 
was, that as long as the creative period of the 
drama lasted, the few days given up to the 

^ Buckham, "Theatre of the Greeks," p. 229. 
* See p. 37. 



I08 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

plays hardly sufficed even for a single perform- 
ance of the various new compositions. "Nor 
were repetitions necessary. The theatre at 
Athens was of enormous size, so that every man 
had a chance of seeing a play when it was first 
bought out. If it was successful, and he wished 
to see it again, he had numerous opportunities 
of doing so at the Rural Dionysia, where repro- 
ductions were the rule. For these reasons the 
Athenian stage of the fifth century was confined 
almost exclusively to original works. When a 
play had once been performed it was never seen 
again, as far as Athens was concerned, unless 
it happened to be of extraordinary merit. It 
is stated on the authority of Dicaearchus that 
the Frogs of Aristophanes *was so much admired 
on account of its parabasis that it was actually 
repeated.'" ^ 

The origin of most of the savage plays is 
lost in obscurity. In all probability, instead of 
having been composed by one man or one group 
of men, they came into being through a long 
process of evolution. The Greek poet wrote 
his plays down, but the savage handed them on 
word for word and action for action from time 
immemorial. It is in this one element that we 

^ Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," p. 71. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 109 

see a very striking contrast between the drama as 
a religious observance in Greece and among the 
savages. To these latter the plays in themselves 
were a suppHcation to the spirits for the certain 
definite things which the plays set forth. They 
asked for food, for rain, for sun, for success in 
battle, through this medium of sympathetic 
magic. It is very doubtful if the average savage 
man had anything like adoration in mind during 
his religious observances. His was a prosperity 
policy bounded by material things. He always 
wanted something definite with which to ease 
the struggle for existence, and, except for the 
attempt to attain it, he had neither the time 
nor the inclination, and perhaps not the mind, 
to devote to these forms which appear in a more 
highly developed stage of society. This same 
statement can be made about the rites of the 
early Greeks which afterwards developed into 
the drama as we know it, but of the later stage 
it would not be true. By the time of the great 
dramatists, supplication for the things set forth 
in the play had entirely disappeared, and in its 
stead there was adoration and supplication for | 
general well-being. Throughout its entire period 
the Greek theatre never became merely a place 
of pubhc entertainment; "it was the temple of 



no THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

the god, whose altar was the central point of the 
semicircle of seats or steps, from which some 
30,000 of his worshippers gazed upon a spectacle 
instituted in his honor. Our theatrical costumes 
are intended to convey an idea of the dresses 
actually worn by the persons represented, while 
those of the Greeks were nothing but modifi- 
cations of the festal robes worn in the Dionysiac 
processions." ^ 

During the greater part of the year the Athe- 
nians had other forms of entertainment besides 
the theatre. It was only when the annual fes- 
tivals of Dionysus came round that they were 
able to enjoy the plays. *^0n such occasions 
their eagerness and enthusiasm were proportion- 
ately great. The whole city kept holiday, and 
gave itself up to pleasure, and to the worship 
of the wine-god. Business was abandoned; 
the law-courts were closed; distraints for debt 
forbidden during the continuance of the festival; 
even prisoners were released from gaol, to enable 
them to share in the common festivities. The 
theatre, the chief centre of attraction, was 
thronged with spectators, and the number of 
plays provided was large enough to compensate 
for their scarcity at other periods. Several 

1 Donaldson, "Theatre of the Greeks," pp. 238 fF. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS in 

days in succession were devoted to the drama. 
Tragedies followed one another without intermis- 
sion from morning till evening. In the midst of 
these pleasures the religious aspect of the per- 
formance, as a ceremony in honor of Dionysus, 
established in obedience to the direct commands 
of the oracle, was not forgotten. The audience 
came with garlands on their heads, as to a sacred 
gathering. The statue of Dionysus was brought 
to the theatre and placed in front of the stage, 
so that the god might enjoy the spectacle along 
with his worshippers. The chief seats in the 
theatre were mostly occupied by priests, and the 
central seat of all was reserved for the priest of 
Dionysus. The performance of plays was pre- 
ceded by the sacrifice of a victim to the god of 
the festival. The poets who wrote the plays, 
the choregi who paid for them, and the actors 
and singers who performed them, were all looked 
upon as ministers of religion, and their persons 
were sacred and inviolable. The theatre itself 
possessed all the sanctity attaching to a temple. 
Any form of outrage committed there was 
treated, not merely as an offence against the 
ordinary laws, but as a sacrilegious act, and was 
punished with corresponding severity.'* ^ 
» Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," pp. i ff. 



112 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

However true the statement may be that the 
Greek drama retained its religious character to 
the end, it seems almost necessary that a modifi- 
cation should be made in it, in order to show the 
tendency which was in progress. In the early 
history the plays or dramatic rites were in them- 
selves, that is, in their subject-matter, an act of 
worship, and were performed when the people 
needed certain definite things, such as good 
crops, sun, or rain. Passing now over the inter- 
vening years, we see in the plays of the great 
tragedians the drama itself taking on a less re- 
ligious character. The plays deal with human 
beings and their interests, although the gods 
are not forgotten and are even brought on the 
stage. The religious element which remains, is 
the fact that they are performed at a festival 
of Dionysus, but so are the games and races 
of all sorts, and these in themselves are hardly 
called religious. If any one of these things had 
been performed at any other time, there would 
have been nothing religious about it. In other 
words, the time and the place, but not the sub- 
ject-matter (as the mass in the Roman Catholic 
Church) made them religious. With the savage 
this is somewhat diflPerent, for among them we 
often find the so-called religious plays, that is, 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 113 

those which in their subject-matter are an appeal 
to the gods, being performed merely for the 
pleasure which they give, with no deeper motive. 
In the plays of the Middle Ages we see another 
very good example of this, for "the element 
which originally constituted its whole essence 
has been overwhelmed and superseded by the 
more powerful ingredients which have been 
introduced into it by the continually diverging 
tastes of succeeding generations." ^ 

In summarizing the relationship which exists 
between the drama of the Greeks and that of 
the savages, we see that the basis for the com- 
parison is a twofold one: the myth and the 
dance. In the myth we find the context; in 
the dance the action which binds these two 
stages together. The chorus and the actors 
show a great deal of similarity in both the high 
and low civilizations, for they arose out of the 
large body of worshippers who could not, in 
the nature of the case, perform the elaborate 
ceremonials laid down; hence this special group 
was given the office. However important these 
things may be in elucidating this relationship, 
the real emphasis should be laid on the fact that 
a strong religious element prevails in much of 

^ J. W. Donaldson, "Theatre of the Greeks," p. 7. 



114 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

the savage drama and throughout the entire 
Greek period. And what is more, the purpose 
at the beginning, in each case, was the same, 
namely, that of presenting, through the agency 
of sympathetic magic, petitions to those gods 
who held material well-being in their hands. 
As time advanced this very materialistic idea 
disappeared from the Greek drama and a 
more spiritual religious idea took its place, 
but with the savage the wants of this world 
were too pressing to give way to a form 
which could only appear on a stage of higher 
culture. 

The sun plays an important part, we have seen, 
in the early drama of the savages and of the 
Greeks. In Japan, too, according to some 
reports, the origin of the drama lies in a myth 
connected with the worship of the sun. A single 
legend is, of course, insufficient to account for 
the origin of the drama, since the nature of art 
precludes its being thus invented; yet it is 
interesting in showing the close connection of 
the drama with religion.^ The first account 
which we find of this legend is in the Kojiki, 
written in 712 a.d., v/here these No plays are 
described as being ancient and their origin asso- 

* K. Mantzius, "History of Theatrical Art," Vol. I, p. 48. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 115 

dated with the sun goddess. It is to be noticed 
that the sun is a goddess and not a god, as in 
Greece. "The mythical story of their (the *No' 
plays) origin is one of the well known tales of 
Japan. The sun goddess, Amaterasu, was of- 
fended and retired to a cave, withdrawing her 
luminous beauty from the world. As may be 
imagined, this was very inconvenient for every 
one, including the rest of the gods, who in their 
distress assembled on the dry bed of the River 
of Heavens. (This is the Milky Way, and to 
one who knows the mountain rivers of Japan it 
gives a very telling little touch, for the dry bed 
of a Japanese river is a broad curve of round 
white stones.) They endeavoured in many ways 
to lure the sun goddess out of her cave, and at 
last they invented a dance and performed it on 
top of an inverted empty tub, which echoed 
when the dancer stamped. This excited her 
curiosity, and the goddess was successfully drawn 
out of her hiding-place, the light of her radiance 
once more blessed the earth, and all was right 
again with gods and men. The stamping on 
the hollow tub is still suggested in the dancing 
of the *No,' where the actor raises his foot and 
stamps ^ once or twice with force enough to 

* See the Snake Dance of the Hopi Indians, Ch. III. 



Ii6 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

make the specially prepared wooden floor of the 
stage echo with a characteristic sound." ^ 

But it is not alone in its origin that we can 
compare the theatre of the Japanese with that 
of the Greeks and the savages. In Japan "men 
and women are forbidden on the same stage. 
The men were formerly not only given the out- 
ward semblance of women by every contrivance 
which the costumier and coiffeur could supply, 
but they were required to spend their lives from 
childhood in feminine costume and society that 
their masculine proclivities might be as far as 
possible obliterated." ^ This does not mean, 
however, that women did not act in some plays, 
for they did, but never with members of the 
opposite sex.^ The actors never appeared with- 
out masks, which were very elaborate. 

As in Greece, the profession of acting was a 
noble one> "With the sole exception of the 
Emperor himself, every great personage took 
part in the performance; a stage was erected 
within the precincts of the Palace; costumes 

1 M. C. Stopes, "Plays of Old Japan — The 'No'," pp. 8 fF.; F. 
Brinkley, "Japan, Its History, Art and Literature," Vol. Ill, p. 23. 

2 O. Edwards, "Japanese Plays and Playfellows," p. 92. 

^ In China the female parts were usually taken by men, but not ' 
from any religious reason. In India the female parts were taken by 
women, K. Mantzius, "History of Theatrical Art," Vol. I, pp. 
43> 81. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 117 

of the costliest and most beautiful materials 
were provided, and a collection of such gar- 
ments as well as of masks and other acces- 
sories for the *No' was counted an essential 
part of every aristocratic mansion's furniture. 
By degrees the practice of the art became a 
profession, but princes, nobles and high of- 
ficials did not cease to study it assiduously, 
and were prepared at any moment to organize 
performances or to take part in them.^ It 
need scarcely be said that various schools came 
into existence. At first, although Buddhist 
priests had taken such a large share in devel- 
oping the *No,' Shinto shrines continued to be 
the principal scenes of its performance, the 
dance being then a ceremony of worship. But 
from the days of the Ashikaga Shogun Yoshi- 
mitsu (i 368-1 394) it underwent popularization, 
and without losing its moral character, received 
an extension of motive, becoming an adjunct of 
congratulatory or commemorative occasions and 
even a pure diversion.'' ^ 

"The tone of pessimism that pervades the 

* In China the actors occupied a low rank. The law forbids the 
sons of actors, barbers and slaves entering for state examinations. 
K. Mantzius, "History of Theatrical Art," Vol. I, p. 46. 

2 F. Brinkley, "Japan, Its History, Art and Literature," Vol. Ill, 
pp. 29 ff. 



Ii8 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

drama is characteristic of all the 'No' composed 
during the military epoch, and has been inter- 
preted as proving their priestly authorship. 
Some learned critics go so far as to assert that 
the laymen generally credited with having 
written the *No' were really responsible, not 
for the text, but only for the music, the dances, 
and the staging, the text being furnished by 
Buddhist priests, who employed it as a vehicle 
for inculcating the instability of life, metem- 
psychosis, the circle of fate, the chain of exist- 
ences, and other religious doctrines. Certainly 
the dramas offer internal evidence of the truth 
of that theory." ^ 

Thus we see that here, too, religion is the 
dominant motive, but, as in Greece, the text of 
the plays is not of a religious character. In 
Japan, as elsewhere in the Orient, those things 
which come down to the people from the past are 
especially sacred, since they are connected with 
the ancestors; and as such they are to be 
reverently regarded. The religious idea is also 
brought out in the fact that the Japanese plays 
are performed at night, not because it is cooler, 
but as a survival of the time when they honored 

* F. Brinkley, "Japan, Its History, Art and Literature," Vol. Ill, 
p. 48. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS 119 

their gods in mystic dances by moonlight or 
torchHght, as do the savages.^ 

In two respects at least the drama of the 
Japanese differs from that of the savage. In 
the first place "the actors do not perform many 
evolutions on the stage, and though their move- 
ments are in harmony with the story to some 
extent, they tend to remain more or less in their 
relative positions." ^ With the savage the entire 
interest of the play depends upon the action 
rather than the lines, which are in many cases 
entirely lacking, while in these *No' plays the 
lines, which are usually in a poetic form, are 
the principal things which hold the attention 
of the audience. However, what movement of 
the body they do have, is prescribed and regu- 
lated according to the severest rules. Every step 
and motion, even of the toes and little fingers in 
the dance, is strictly governed by iron tradition, 
and the secret of some parts is only in the hands 
of a few masters.^ The second difference is 
that there are on the Japanese stage "no stage 
properties of any kind, just as there is no scenery 
and the images of the places in which the action 

1 K. Mantzius, "History of Theatrical Art," Vol. I, p. 50. 

2 M. C. Stopes, "Plays of Old Japan — The 'No'," p. 24. 
' M. C. Stopes, loc. cit., p. 6. 



I20 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

lies must be evolved in their own minds by the 
spectators, guided by the descriptive passages of 
the play. So also there are no appliances. If 
the actors, for instance, have to enter a boat and 
be rowed across a stream, they will perhaps 
merely step over a bamboo pole. If one of the 
characters has to ladle up water and offer it to 
a fainting warrior, the whole action is accom- 
plished with a fan." ^ We know that both on 
the Greek stage and on that of the savage the 
use of properties of all kinds was thought indis- 
pensable in creating the illusion. The Greeks 
even went so far as to introduce horses and 
chariots on the stage.^ 

The Japanese do not lack the chorus, but the 
part they play is of minor consideration. They 
are seated at the back of the stage, but do not 
take part in the dancing. They do, however, 
accompany the dance with flute and drum and 
from time to time intone the words of the drama. ^ 
We know how prominent a part the chorus 
played in the Greek drama, but there the 
singing and dancing were done by one body. In 
this respect the chorus of the Japanese resembles 

» M. C. Stopes, "Plays of Old Japan — The 'No'," P- i6. 

2 Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," p. 200. 

' Brlnkley, "Japan, Its History, Art and Literature," p. 28. 



SAVAGE, GREEK, JAPANESE DRAMAS I2i 

many of the savage choruses of the women who 
are seated off the stage and whose function is 
beating time and singing. All three dramas 
show a resemblance in the use of the musical 
instruments. The Greeks had the flute and 
sometimes the lyre; ^ the savages usually had 
the drum, or modifications of it; ^ while the 
Japanese had both. 

From this discussion there is one conclusion 
which stands out above all others, and that is 
that the dramas of the Greeks and the Japanese, 
although very highly developed in their liter- 
ature and art, must have resembled in their 
earlier stages the dramatic rites and ceremonies 
of those savage peoples with whom this book, as 
a study of earlier stages of social evolution, is 
dealing. It is true that there must have been 
many intermediate steps, of which we have no 
record, between the crude sympathetic magic 
ceremonies of a people such as the Australians, 
and the plays of Sophocles, or the present *No' 
drama. But despite this absence of a full series 
of transitional forms, but little doubt should 
remain that there obtains, in the growth of the 
drama, the same development of form out of 

* Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," p. 320. 

* Grosse, "The Beginnings of Art," pp. 278 fF. 



122 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

form, in a connected series, which characterizes 
the process of evolution elsewhere in nature and 
in society. Grosse says, "Strange and inartistic 
as the primitive forms of art sometimes appear 
at the first sight, as soon as we examine them 
more closely we find that they are formed ac- 
cording to the same laws as govern the highest 
creations of art/' ^ 

^ Grosse, "The Beginnings of Art," p. 307. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 



CHAPTER V 
INITIATION CEREMONIES 

AMONG most savage peoples when a 
boy reaches the age of puberty the 
time has arrived for him to leave the 
company of women, with whom he has been 
living, and join himself to the men. However, 
before he can do this, he must be taught many 
things, among them the secrets and moral code 
of the tribe or totem into which he is to enter 
as a full-fledged member. This education is 
accomplished largely through more or less elab- 
orate ceremonies, many of which are of a dra- 
matic nature, especially in those communities 
where the totem holds a prominent place. As 
a rule, the rite of circumcision is performed, 
thus making the boy, as they think, a more fit 
member of society. This time is tlje most im- 
portant in the life of a youth, for announce- 
ment is made to the world that he is no longer 
a child, but has reached that age when he is 
fit to take up a man's estate and perform the 
functions for which he was intended. In Aus- 



126 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

tralia these puberty initiatory rites occupy much 
of the time of the people which is not spent in 
the actual getting of food. The ceremonies begin 
when the boy is between ten and twelve years 
old and are not concluded until he has reached 
the age of twenty-five or thirty.^ In many 
other parts of the world, however, the rites are 
of shorter duration, sometimes occupying only a 
few days. 

A close analogy exists between these cere- 
monies and the morality plays of the Middle 
Ages. In the latter the actors impersonated 
the various virtues and vices. In nearly all 
cases good triumphed over evil; in others the 
Devil was the victor. The idea was to show the 
people what would happen to them if they gave 
way to their passions, and what would be the 
reward if virtue prevailed. So it was that the 
moral teachers of both the civilized man and 
the savage resorted to the stage in order to 
keep their followers in the narrow path. 

The Greeks early recognized the educative 
effect of the theatre not only for the youth, but 
also for the older people. "In Lucian's Dialogue, 
Solon tells Anacharsis that the Athenians edu- 

^ Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," 
p. 213. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 127 

cate their sons by taking them to tragedies and 
comedies and showing them examples of virtue 
and vice, so as to teach them what to avoid.*' ^ 
On the other hand Aristotle does not feel that 
the theatre should be used as a school,^ for its 
function is religious. Books were few and their 
use was confined to a very limited class of people. 
The result was that the ordinary Athenian de- 
pended almost entirely for his literary pleasures 
upon public performances and recitations of poet- 
ical compositions.^ 

Up to the age of puberty the Australian youth 
has had practically no systematic instruction, 
and so his schooling really begins at the age 
when most civilized children are supposed to 
be well grounded in the so-called fundamentals. 
"The knowledge is conveyed to him in a most 
effective manner by means of elaborate cere- 
monies of a dramatic nature, performed by 
members of the different totems and intended 
to picture events in the life of the mythic 
ancestral individuals who lived in the ancient 
time — half-animal creations whose descendants 
are the present members of the tribe. Thus, 

1 Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," p. 326. 

2 Aristotle, " Poetics," VI, 2. 

' Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," p. 4. 



128 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

performances which seem on the outside merely 
imitations of the actions of different animals are 
really part of the instruction of the novice in 
the sacred lore connected with the totems and 
the ancestors of the various clans." ^ 

Another phase of these ceremonies is to teach 
the novice in a most vivid fashion those things 
which in the future he must avoid, that is, 
introduce him to the mores of the tribe. For 
this reason many of the rites are almost equiva- 
lent to a morality play. At first sight some of 
the performances seem to be very immoral, being 
presented on the principle of similia similihus 
curantur. Those men who guard the boys talk 
to each other in an inverted language, so that 
the real meaning is just the opposite of what 
they say. At the end of every sentence the 

^ H. Webster, "Primitive Secret Societies," pp. 140-1. 

"The art of the Australian is not constructive, not architectonic, 
not graphic, but dramatic and mimetic. Every writer who has direct 
knowledge of the Australian corroborees, whether occasional and secu- 
lar, or state and ceremonial, testifies to the remarkable interest shown 
in dramatic representation. The reproduction by dances of the move- 
ments and behavior of the animals of the chase is startling. Great 
humor is also shown in adopting and reproducing recent events and 
personal traits. These performances are attended with high emo- 
tional attacks; and all the accompaniments of decoration, song, music, 
spectators' shouts, etc., are designed to revive the feelings appropriate 
to the immediate conflicting situations which mean so much to the 
savage." (John Dewey, "The Psychological Review," 9: pp. 217- 
230; Thomas, "Source Book for Social Origins," pp. 182-3.) 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 129 

speaker adds "Yah," which negatives all that 
has been said and done. Indeed the use of the 
word "Yah" runs through the whole conversa- 
tion carried on during the ceremonies.^ "The 
lads are told that this is done in order that they 
may learn to speak the truth. Various oflFences 
against morahty are exhibited and the guardians 
warn the novices of their death or of violence, 
should they attempt to repeat the actions which 
they have just witnessed. There are many ob- 
scene gestures for the purpose of shocking the 
young fellows; and if the latter show the least 
sign of mirth or frivolity, they are hit on the 
head by an old man who is appointed to watch 
them." 2 In one ceremony four or five of the 
old men sit on the ground making mud pies. 
The guardian of the boys says to them, "Look 
at that! Look at those old men, when you get 
back to the camp, go and do like that, and play 
with little children — Yah!"^ 

Among practically all savage peoples when 
any sacred rites are to take place the women are 
not only excluded from the more prominent of 
them, but they are also kept in ignorance of 
what occurs. If by any chance the women should 

1 A. W. Howitt, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," p. 533. 

2 Webster, loc cit., pp. 49 fF. ' Howitt, loc. cit.^ p. 534. 



I30 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

appear at the place where the ceremony is 
being held, they would probably be killed.^ They 
are told that the initiation is the work of the 
tribal gods. "Bull-roarers"^ are swung in the 
bushes, and the ground is beaten by the men 
with pieces of bark. The women are deceived 
into believing that the noise is caused by the 
trampling of an evil spirit who has come to 
remove the boys. The sound of the bull-roarer 
is his voice.^ But not alone to the savage people 
does the bull-roarer belong. It was used by 
the ancient Greeks in their initiation ceremonies 
to simulate the voice of the thunder-god — 
Rhombos.'^ This latter idea is prevalent in the 
central part of Australia. Miss Harrison says: 
"To us a thunderstorm is mainly a thing of 
terror, a thing to be avoided, a thing *not to 
go out in.' We get abundant and superabun- 
dant rain without thunderstorms. But an occa- 
sional drought broken up by thunderstorms 
helps us to realize what thunder and the buU- 

1 A. W. Howitt, "Native Tribes of Southeast Australia," p. 637. 

2 Bull-roarer = a piece of wood v/ith a string looped around one 
end which, when swung, gives a humming sound. 

^ Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," pp. 
214-17, 219, 222, 223-6, 227, 260, 372-3; Webster, "Primitive Secret 
Societies," p. 99. 

* Harrison, "Themis," p. 61; Lang, "Custom and Myth," pp. 36, 
Siff. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 131 

roarer, which makes thunder, mean to the 
Central AustraHan, where a * thunderstorm 
causes the desert to blossom as the rose truly as 
if by magic' The thunder, as the headman 
said, * caused the rain to fall and everything to 
grow up new/ Now we realize its virtue in 
the adolescence rite; it gives the boys *more 
power,' they not only grow up, but grow up new. 
The bull-roarer is as it were the rite incarnate. 
The bull-roarer is the vehicle not of a god or even 
of a spirit, but of unformulated uncanny force, 
what Mr. Lang calls a * powerful Awful.'" ^ 

In Australia when the boy reaches the age 
of puberty the elders of the tribe undertake 
his initiation. He is conducted to a spot near 
the main camp, where the members of the group 
are gathered. Here the men throw him up in 
the air several times, while the women dance 
around singing. Then the boy's chest and back 
are painted with various totemic designs. Mean- 
while he is told that the ceremony just passed 
through will promote his growth to manhood and 
that henceforth he must not play with the women 
or girls, but must come to live with the men in 
their camp. He is further instructed that under 
no circumstances must surprise or fear be mani- 

^ Harrison, "Themis," p. 65. 



132 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

fested, nor by word or deed show that he is 
conscious of what is going on, yet that he 
must narrowly observe everything, and remember 
all he sees and hears. ^ He is also told that he 
must never mention to a woman what he is 
about to see, for if he does, the ancestral spirits 
will be angry with him. 

These initiation ceremonies of the Australians 
are strictly religious in character, and although 
this element seems at times to be subservient 
to the dramatic, nevertheless it is present and 
is the controlling factor. The boys are not only 
by this graphic art taught the history of the 
past, but they are also instructed in the methods 
to be used in order to obtain a goodly food 
supply. When it is remembered that these 
people feel that unless a ceremony is performed 
exactly in the way prescribed the efficacy is lost, 
it will be clear why so much stress is laid on 
teaching them to the boys. 

Briefly put, then, the purpose of these cere- 
monies is to make the youths worthy members 
of the community, according to their standards. 
** Certain principles are impressed upon them 
for their guidance during life — for instance, 
to listen and obey the old men; generously to 

1 A. W. Howitt, "Native Tribes of Southeast Australia," p. 592. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 133 

share the fruits of the chase with others, espe- 
cially with their kindred; not to interfere with 
the women of the tribe, particularly those who 
are related to them, nor to injure their kindred 
(in its widest sense) by means of evil magic. 
Before the novice is permitted to take his place 
in the community, marry and join in its councils, 
he must possess those qualifications which will 
enable him to act for the common welfare/' ^ 

As has been said, one object of these cere- 
monies is to scare the boys into obedience to 
the elder men of the tribe. In Australia this 
is partially done by the bull-roarers, which when 
heard in the distance are said to be the voice of 
the gods telling the boys to obey. The Fijian 
elders, who lack these bull-roarers, have adopted 
another means. The boys are led by the old 
men into the open space before the temple, 
where a horrible spectacle meets their eyes. 
"Near the outer entrance, with his back to the 
Temple, sits the chief priest, regarding them 
with a fixed stare; and between him and them 
lie a row of dead men, covered with blood, their 
bodies apparently cut open and their entrails 
protruding. The Vere ^ steps over them one by 

1 A. W. Howitt, "Native Tribes of Southeast Australia," p. 638. 

2 f^ere = old man. 



134 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

one and the awestruck youths follow him until 
they stand in a row before the high priest, their 
* souls drying up' under his strong glare. Sud- 
denly he blurts out a great yell, whereupon the 
dead men start to their feet, and run down to 
the river to cleanse themselves from the blood 
and filth with which they are besmeared." ^ 

Among the Bushmen so important are the 
dances thought to be that when a boy is initiated 
into any of the secret groups he receives elabo- 
rate instruction in them. There are numerous 
examples of where a person has been asked 
certain questions about tribal matters and he 
has answered, "I do not dance that dance," 
meaning that he had not been initiated into 
those particular secrets of the tribe or group. ^ 

In commenting on these initiation ceremonies, 
Mr. W. I. Thomas says: Races that are low in 
the scale of civilization make, recite, and act 
poems and dramas. "It is perhaps true that 
there is not a lower race in existence to-day than 
the Central Australians and yet among them Mr. 
Baldwin Spencer and Mr. F. J. Gillen were 
present on the occasion of the gatherings in 
connection with the initiation of the young men, 

^ Webster, loc. cit.y p. 64. 

2 Lang, " Myth, Ritual, and Religion," Vol. I, p. 175; Vol. II, p. 12. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 135 

commencing in the middle of September and 
lasting until the middle of the following Jan- 
uary, during which time there was a constant 
succession of essentially dramatic ceremonies, 
not a day passing without one, while there were 
sometimes as many as five or six during the 
twenty-four hours. These ceremonies or quahara 
related to the wanderings of the Alcheringa, 
or mythical ancestors of the tribe; each ceremony 
was the property of some individual who either 
made it himself or inherited it from some one 
— generally a father or elder brother — and it 
could be acted only by his permission. A single 
instance will suffice to illustrate the crude but 
dramatic character of these performances: the 
men were supposed to represent two eagle- 
hawks quarreling over a piece of flesh, which 
was represented by the downy mass in one man's 
mouth. At first they remained squatting on 
their shields, moving their arms up and down; 
and still continuing this action, which was 
supposed to represent the flapping of wings, 
they jumped oflF the shields, and with their 
bodies bent up and arms extended and flapping, 
began circling around each other as if each were 
afraid of coming to close quarters. They then 
stopped and moved a step or two at a time. 



136 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

first to one side and then to the other, until 
finally they came to close quarters and began 
fighting with their heads for the possession of 
the piece of meat. . . . The attacking man at 
length seized with his teeth the piece of meat 
and wrenched it out of the other man's mouth. 
The acting in this ceremony was especially good, 
the actions and movements of the birds being 
admirably presented, and the whole scene with 
the decorated men in front and the group of 
interested natives in the background was by no 
means devoid of picturesqueness." ^ 

The wolf ritual among the Nootka Indians 
of North America was a dramatic performance 
representing the capture of the novices by the 
wolves, their recapture from the wolves, the exor- 
cism of the wolf spirits that they might have 
brought back with them, and the performance 
of dances that the novices were supposed to 
have been taught by the wolves.^ "The Nootka 
tradition runs that this secret society was insti- 
tuted by wolves who took away a chiefs son 
and tried to kill him, but, failing to do so, 

^ W. I. Thomas, "Decennial Publications of the University of 
Chicago," First Series 4: pp. 241-56; Thomas, "Source Book for 
Social Origins," pp. 290-91; Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of 
Central Australia," pp. 296-7. 

2 Sapir, " Some Aspects of the Nootka Language and Culture," 
American Anthropologist, January-March, 191 1. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 137 

became his friends, taught him the rites of the 
society and ordered him to teach them to his 
friends on his return home. They then carried 
the young man back to his village. They also 
begged that whenever he moved from one place 
to another he would kindly leave behind him 
some red cedar-bark to be used by them in their 
own ceremonies; and to this custom the Nootka 
tribes still adhere. Every new member of the 
society must be initiated by the wolves. At 
night a pack of wolves, impersonated by Indians 
dressed in wolf-skins and wearing wolf-masks, 
make their appearance, seize the novice, and 
carry him into the woods. When the wolves 
are heard outside the village, coming to fetch 
away the novice, all the members of the society 
blacken their faces and sing. Next day the 
wolves bring back the novice dead, and the mem- 
bers of the society have to revive him. The 
wolves are supposed to have put a magic stone 
into his body, which must be removed before he 
can come to life. Till this is done the pretended 
corpse is left lying outside the house. Two wizards 
go and remove the stone, which appears to be 
quartz, and then the novice is resuscitated." ^ 

^ Fr, Boas, Sixth Report on Northwestern Tribes of Canada, p. 47; 
Frazer, "Golden Bough," Vol. Ill, 1900, pp. 434-5; "Narratives of 
the Adventures and Sufferings of John N. Jewett," p. 119. 



138 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

In the first part of this legend is to be noticed 
a fact which we have tried to bring out several 
times before, and that is, in so many of the 
savage legends connected with the ceremonies 
a human being by some means or other reaches 
the place either in this or the future world 
where he is taught the way in which the cere- 
mony should be performed. He then returns 
and instructs his fellowmen, who in their turn 
incorporate into their drama the story of his 
wanderings. 

There are also in this legend embodied other 
ideas common among many tribes. They believe 
that when a youth passes from boyhood to man- 
hood he enters an entirely different state — a 
rebirth. In order to accomplish this he is sup- 
posed either to die a natural death, or be killed, 
and when he is revived, he is thought incapable 
of remembering anything that happened before.^ 
**Such rites become intelligible if one supposes 
that their substance consists in extracting the 
youth's soul in order to transform it to his totem. 
For the extraction of his soul would naturally 
be supposed to kill the youth or at least to throw 
him into a deathlike trance, which the savage 

^ A similar ceremony also occurs among the natives on the Congo 
River. Keane, "Man Past and Present," p. 109. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 139 

hardly distinguishes from death. His recovery 
would then be attributed either to the gradual 
recovery of his system from the violent shock 
which it had received, or, more probably, to the 
infusion into him of fresh life drawn from the 
totem. Thus the essence of these initiatory 
rites, so far as they consist in a simulation of 
death and resurrection, would be an exchange 
of Hfe or souls between the man and his 
totem.'' ^ 

In New South Wales the night previous to the 
initiation ceremony is devoted to a corroboree. 
One member of the tribe will mimic the actions 
of an emu which some of the others pretend to 
hunt; another will endeavor to imitate a dingo, 
and all appear to thoroughly enjoy the rude 
dramatic attempt.^ After the boys have been 
taken into the bush for initiation, there are many 
pantomimic performances. Sometimes the ani- 
mal imitated is the kangaroo — the men hopping 
along one after the other. The iguana is repre- 
sented by men crawling along on the ground, 
moving their hands and feet like that animal. 
Various other animals and birds are mimicked.^ 

1 Frazer, "Golden Bough," Vol. Ill, 1900, p. 422. 
* Cameron, "Tribes of New South Wales," 14 J. A. I., p. 358. 
' R. H. Matthews, "Keeparra Ceremony of Initiation," 26 J. A. 
I., p. 331. 



140 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

The purpose here is the same as among the 
Australiansjof dramatically setting forth the myths 
and legends which concern the totemic ancestral 
animals of the past. 

"In connection with the initiation into the 
bear totem in northwestern America there was 
held quite a theatrical performance. A lance 
was prepared which had a very sharp point 
so arranged that the slightest pressure on its 
tip would cause the steel to gradually sink into 
the shaft. In sight of the multitude crowding 
the lodge, this lance was pressed in the bare 
chest of the candidate and apparently sunk in 
his body to the shaft, when he would tumble 
down simulating death. At the same time a 
quantity of blood, previously kept in the mouth, 
would issue from the would-be corpse, making 
it quite clear to the uninitiated gazers-on that 
the terrible knife had had its effect, when lo! 
upon one of the actors striking up one of the 
chants specially made for the circumstance and 
richly paid for, the candidate would gradually 
rise up a new man.'' ^ The Dakota Indians 
practice a rite very similar to this in which the 

1 A. G, Morice, in Transactions of the Canadian Institute, Vol. 
IV (1892-3), pp. 203-6; Frazer, "Golden Bough," 1900, Vol. Ill, 
pp. 438-9. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 141 

candidate is revived after having been knocked 
down by a blow.^ 

The Mandans of the Plains held an annual 
religious ceremony which had several distinct 
objects. "One was the dancing of the bull- 
dance, a magical practice, by the strict perform- 
ance of which a supply of buffalo would be secured 
for the coming season. In the bull-dance, the 
performers were covered with the skins of different 
animals, the heads of the latter serving as masks. 
The dancers impersonated what were doubtless 
the totemic animals of their clans — bears, swans, 
wolves — and in their performances imitated the 
actions and habits of the animals and chanted 
peculiar and appropriate songs known to the 
performers alone. Such totemic representations, 
like the Arunta ^uahara were the strictly guarded 
property of those who by initiation were entitled 
to give them. A second object was for *the 
purpose of conducting all the young men of the 
tribe, as they annually arrive at the age of man- 
hood, through an ordeal of privation and torture, 
which, while it is supposed to harden the muscles 
and prepare them for extreme endurance, enables 

1 G. H. Pond, "Dakota Superstitions," Collections of the Min- 
nesota Historical Society for 1867, pp. 35, 37-40; Frazer, "Golden 
Bough," 1900, Vol. Ill, p. 433. 



142 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

the chiefs who are spectators to the scene, to 
decide upon their comparative bodily strength 
and abihty to endure the extreme privations and 
sufferings that often fall to the lot of Indian 
warriors; and that they may decide who is the 
most hardy and best able to lead a war-party in 
case of extreme exigency.'" ^ Before being finally 
admitted, the young men are submitted to the most 
terrible tortures in order to try their courage.^ 

In Australia for the most elaborate of the 
initiation ceremonies there is a large piece of 
ground which is cleared and then laid out with 
banks of dirt and brakes of bushes. The follow- 
ing is the plan for the stage setting of one of 
these Initiatory Dramas. 




CldlA 




A. Place where the men sit. 

C. Place where the women dance. 

D. Place where the operation is carried out. 

^ S. Catlin, "Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and 
Condition of the North American Indians," Vol. I, p. 157. 
2 Webster, loc. cit,, pp. 183-5. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 143 

d. Brake made of bushes in front of which the 

men sit. 

e. Brake behind which the novice sits. 

F. Banks of dirt with pathway between. 

After being painted, the boy is made to crouch 
behind his brake and told not to cast his eyes 
upon the actors unless so instructed. All the 
first night the dancing and singing is continued 
with great vigor. In the morning the men sing 
a fire song while the boy's future mother-in-law 
presents him with a burning stick, and while 
so doing, admonishes him always to hold fast to 
his own fire — in other words, not to interfere 
with women assigned to other men. The boy 
is then taken out into the bushes, where he is 
left for three days to reflect upon the fact that 
he is to enter the state of manhood. 

On the night of the fourth day two men go 
to the brake of the boy, to which he has pre- 
viously been brought, tie a bandage over his 
eyes and bring him out between the banks of 
dirt, where a ceremony is to take place. Here 
he is placed lying face downward until the two 
men who are going to perform the ceremony are 
in position between the banks. **When the boy 
is told by the old man who is instructing him, to 



144 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

look, he sees lying in front of him and on his 
side a man who, his teacher tells him, represents 
a wild dog. At the other end of the stage a 
decorated man stands with legs wide apart 
holding up twigs of eucalyptus in each hand, 
and having his head ornamented with a small 
Waninga, which is a sacred object emblematic 
of some totem animal, in this particular case a 
kangaroo. This man moves his head from side 
to side as if looking for something and every 
now and then uttering a sound similar to that 
made by a kangaroo, which animal he is supposed 
to represent. Suddenly the dog looks up, sees 
the kangaroo, begins barking and running on 
all fours, passing between the man's legs and 
lying down behind the man, who keeps watch- 
ing him over his shoulder. Then the dog runs 
again between the kangaroo-man's legs, but this 
time he is caught and well shaken and a pre- 
tence is made of dashing his head against the 
ground, whereupon he howls as if in pain. These 
movements are repeated several times, and finally 
the dog is supposed to be killed by the kangaroo. 
The boy is told by the old man that the scene 
represents an incident which took place in past 
ages when a kangaroo-man attacked a wild 
dog-man and killed the latter. This is the 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 145 

first of the totemic myths to which the boy is 
introduced. ^ 

**0n the fifth day, in the afternoon, another 
performance, in which two kangaroos and one 
dog figure, is given. The kangaroos wear, as 
before, a small Waninga in their hair and this 
time carry between their teeth and also in their 
hair, bunches of wooden shavings soaked in 
blood, which are supposed to represent the 
wounds received from the bites of the dogs. 
The performance is essentially similar to that of 
the previous day, and the antics of the dog as 
he runs round and looks up, barking at the 
kangaroo or howling lustily as his head is bumped 
against the ground brings smiles to every face 
except that of the Wurtja?- 

"On the sixth day the Wurtja is taken out 
hunting by the men. In the evening while 
sitting behind his brake he hears songs which 
refer to the wanderings of the ancestors. It 
must be remembered that it is now for the first 
time that the boy hears anything of these tradi- 
tions and sees the ceremonies performed, in 
which the ancestors of the tribe are represented 
as they were, and acting as they did during life. 

1 Spencer and Gillen, "native tribes of Central Australia." p. 225. 

2 Wurtja = the boy who is being initiated. 



146 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

These plays are as a school for the boys, in which 
they receive practically all their education." 

A necessary part of the ceremony consists in 
showing to the novices certain dances, the im- 
portant and common feature of which is, that 
they represent special totemic animals. In the 
Arunta tribe, however, they have a very definite 
meaning. "At the first glance it looks much as 
if all that they were intended to represent was 
the behaviour of certain animals, but in reality 
they have a much deeper meaning, for each per- 
former represents an ancestral individual who 
lived in the Alcheringa.^ He was a member of a 
group of individuals, all of whom, just like him- 
self, were the direct descendants or transforma- 
tions of the animals, the names of which they 
bore. It is as a reincarnation of the never-dying 
spirit part of one of these semi-animal ancestors 
that every member of the tribe is born, and 
therefore, when born, he or she bears of neces- 
sity the name of the animal or plant of which 
the Alcheringa ancestor was a transformation 
or descendant. 

"It is in this way that the boy during the 
initiation ceremonies is instructed for the first 
time in any of the sacred matters referring to 

^ Alcheringa = mythical past. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 147 

the totems, and it is by means of the perform- 
ances which are concerned with certain animals, 
or rather, apparently with these animals, but 
in reality with the Alcheringa individuals who 
were the direct transformations of such animals, 
that the traditions dealing with this subject, 
which is of the greatest importance in the eyes 
of the natives, are firmly impressed upon the 
mind of the novice, to whom everything which 
he sees and hears is new and surrounded with 
an air of mystery/' ^ 

The next two ceremonies, those of circum- 
cision and subincision, take place at intervals 
of six weeks. These being performed, the novice 
is regarded as an initiated member of the tribe 
and may take part in all the sacred ceremonies 
of his group, though it is not until he has passed 
through the fire ceremony which occurs some 
years later that he is regarded as a fully devel- 
oped man. For this a large fire is made, on which 
are placed green branches. The boy is forced 
to lie on these, and although the heat and 
smoke are stifling, he must stay for four or 
five minutes. The purpose is to make the boys 
more hardy and to impart to them courage and 

* Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," 
pp. 224 fF. 



148 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

wisdom.^ It may be that the purifying influ- 
ence of fire and smoke is recognized, for we find 
that all over the world fire plays an important 
part in religious ceremonies. 

In the New Guinea initiation ceremonies 
masked men of the tribe dress in draperies of 
grass and act the parts of various gods. The 
boys are led into the wilderness and brought 
into the presence of the mountain god, who 
delivers an impressive address to the frightened 
lads. The purport is, that he will be their friend 
if they obey the elders, but if they disobey, 
the most direful penalties in the shape of disease 
and death will overtake them.^ The main ob- 
ject seems to be to keep the youths under the 
control of the old men. They do not realize 
that the men impersonate the gods and so be- 
lieve everything that they are told. Here the 
drama acts as a school of obedience for the boys, 
which they think is in the hands of the gods. 

One of the cleverest and most interesting of 
these initiation ceremonies is reported from the 
Bismarck Archipelago. A spirit called Duk-Duk 
assumes a visible form and makes its appearance 

1 Spencer and Gillen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," 
pp. 224 fF. 

* Webster, "Primitive Secret Societies," pp. 101-102. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 149 

at stated intervals, which always occur on the 
first day of a new moon. It is announced a 
month beforehand by the old men, to one of 
whom it is said to belong. During that month 
great preparations of food are made, and should 
any young man have failed to provide an 
adequate supply on the occasion of its last ap- 
pearance, he receives a pretty strong hint that 
Duk-Duk is displeased with him, with the re- 
sult that there is no second offence. When it is 
remembered that the old men, who alone have 
the power of summoning the Duk-Duk from his 
house at the bottom of the sea, are too weak to 
provide themselves with food, the reason for 
this hint is obvious. Before the arrival of the 
Duk-Duk the women disappear, for it is death 
for a woman to look upon this unquiet spirit. 
Before daybreak all the men are assembled on 
the beach, the young ones looking very fright- 
ened, for they know that the Duk-Duk is aware 
of all their shortcomings for the last month. 
"At the first streak of dawn, singing and drum- 
beating is heard out at sea, and, as soon as 
there is enough light to see them, five or six 
canoes, lashed together with a platform built 
over them, are seen to be slowly advancing 
towards the beach. Two most extraordinary 



I50 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

figures appear dancing on the platform, uttering 
shrill cries, like a small dog yelping. They 
seem to be about ten feet high, but so rapid 
are their movements that it is difficult to observe 
them carefully. However, the outward and 
visible form assumed by them is intended to 
represent a gigantic cassowary, with the most 
hideous and grotesque of human faces. The 
dress, which is made of the leaves of the dra- 
conaena, certainly looks much like the body of 
this bird, but the head is like nothing but the 
head of a Duk-Duk. It is a conical shaped 
erection, about five feet high, made of very fine 
basket work, and gummed all over to give a 
surface on which the diabolical countenance is 
depicted. No arms or hands are visible and the 
dress extends down to the knees. The old men, 
doubtless, are in the secret, but by the alarmed 
look on the faces of the others, it is easy to see 
that they imagine that there is nothing human 
about these alarming visitors. As soon as the 
canoes touch the beach, the two Duk-Duks jump 
out, and at once the natives fall back so as to 
avoid touching them. If a Duk-Duk is touched, 
even by accident, he very frequently kills the 
unfortunate native on the spot. After landing, 
the Duk-Duks dance around each other, imitat- 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 151 

ing the ungainly motion of the cassowary and 
uttering their shrill cries. During the whole of 
their stay they make no sound but this. It 
would never do for them to speak, for in that 
case, they might be recognized by their voices. 
Nothing more is to be done now till evening, 
and they occupy their time running up and down 
the beach, through the village, and into the 
bush, and seem to be very fond of turning up in 
the most unexpected manner, and frightening the 
natives half out of their wits. During the day a 
little house has been built for the Duk-Duk's 
benefit. No one but the old men knows exactly 
where this house is, as it is carefully concealed. 
Here one may suppose the restless spirit unbends 
to a certain extent and has his meals. Cer- 
tainly no one would venture to disturb him. 
In the evening a vast pile of food is collected 
and is borne off by the old men into the bush, 
every man making his contribution to the meal. 
The Duk-Duk, if satisfied, maintains a complete 
silence, but if he does not think the amount 
collected sufficient, he shows his disapprobation 
by yelping and leaping." In order to prepare 
their minds for the mysteries of the Duk-Duk, 
the boys are beaten with sticks until the blood 
flows freely. On the last day that the moon is 



IS2 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

visible, the Duk-Duk disappears as silently as 
he came and thus the mystery is kept up. At 
frequent intervals the man who has impersonated 
the spirit leaves his costume in the woods and 
mixes with the people of the village so that they 
will not suspect that one of their number is 
taking the part. He even adds his supply of 
food to the general contribution.^ 

One very clear point of difference presents 
itself here between this initiation and that of 
the boys in Australia. In the latter the boys 
receive their instruction in practically all the 
ways of life through the ceremonies, but the 
subjection of the boys through fear is a minor 
element, while in the Bismarck Archipelago 
fear plays the most important role. This pur- 
pose is very effective during the entire period 
of adolescence and often lasts far into manhood 
before they learn that it was a member of their 
own tribe who took the part of the Duk-Duk. 
While of course it is important that the older 
men of the tribe should have control over the 

^ Webster, loc. cit., pp. 111-114; G. Brown, "Melanesians and 
Polynesians," pp. 60-72. The drama here has assumed a practical 
turn and might almost be put under the "Food Ceremonies," for by 
means of it the old men of the tribe get enough on which to live very 
comfortably; but because it has the other purpose of initiating the 
boys, it is thought best to put it in here. 



INITIATION CEREMONIES 153 

youths, even though It is obtained through fear, 
yet it is a question whether the method adopted 
by the AustraHans of obtaining control through 
respect for learning is not really in the end more 
effective. There the youths are kept in the 
training school until they are nearly twenty-five 
years old and it is only natural that the respect 
which exists in other places of pupil for teacher 
should dominate the relationship even among the 
savages. 

Numerous other instances of these initiation 
ceremonies could be cited, practiced by peoples 
the world over. In all of them the same funda- 
mental elements appear. They serve to intro- 
duce the boys when they have reached the age 
of puberty into the myths and history of their 
tribe and totem. They act as a school for them, 
and, among many peoples, they are the agency 
through which they receive their first moral 
teachings. Again, the boys are taught to respect 
and obey the elders of the tribe, who frighten 
them into thinking that their commands are 
the orders of the gods. All such fundamental 
ideas are conveyed to the youths by means of 
dramatic representations. 



DRAMATIC WAR CEREMONIES 



CHAPTER VI 
DRAMATIC WAR CEREMONIES 

IN the preceding chapters we have discussed 
at length the ways and means that savage 
man has adopted for deaHng with the spirit 
world. Through the plant and the animal cere- 
monies he hopes to keep up the supply of the 
important elements of his daily sustenance. By 
coercing the spirits ruling the sun and rain, he 
endeavors to obtain an equilibrium between 
these two essential factors of life. However, 
we have not as yet mentioned some of the means 
by which, on certain occasions, the primitive man 
endeavors to secure the assistance of the spirits 
in dealing with human beings like himself. We 
have left this until now because it does not play 
such an important part in savage life. As a 
rule the man of low culture feels better able to 
cope alone with individuals of his own kind whom 
he can see and hear than he does with that vast 
unseen horde of spirits about him. His rela- 
tionship with his fellowman is not so dependent 
upon the aleatory, the unreckonable element, as 



IS8 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

are his dealings with the members of the other 
world. Hence it is only under extraordinary 
circumstances that a man will call upon the gods 
for help in dealing with human beings, for he 
relies largely on past experience to help him. 
However, if there is a man whom, for some 
reason, the savage does not want to attack alone, 
he has recourse to sympathetic magic, by means 
of which he hopes to bring about his enemy's 
death or downfall. If he wishes to find the 
whereabouts of some enemy whom he thinks has 
done him a wrong, he asks the spirits to tell 
him. While these appeals are in a way dra- 
matic, in that they are imitative, yet they lack 
definite human action and for that reason are 
only mentioned in passing. There is, however, 
one method employed by man in dealing with 
his own kind which is truly dramatic, and that 
is the war dance or ceremony which is performed 
among nearly all savage peoples the world over. 
The purpose for which it is enacted is twofold; 
first, to get the gods on their side in the fight, 
and second, to work themselves up to such a 
pitch of excitement that they will rush into 
the fray and show no mercy to any who may 
fall in their path.^ 

1 W. I. Thomas, "Sex and Society," p. 258. 



DRAMATIC WAR CEREMONIES 159 

In communities of low civilization there are 
manifold reasons for which the drama is per- 
formed, but, according to our view, only two of 
them really accomplish that for which they are 
intended. The first is to give pleasure, and the 
second, which is to be seen in these war cere- 
monies, is to induce a high degree of excitement. 
Without this latter element the savage wars 
would be very much less horrible than they are 
now. 

The natives of Australia do not believe that 
such a thing as a natural death can occur, hence 
when any one dies, the person who killed him 
is always sought. A man or party of men who 
start to find such an one is called "Kurdaitcha.** 
Before they go, a ceremony is performed to 
insure success. Five of the six men who take 
part are elaborately painted with various designs. 
In their hands they carry shields and either a 
spear-thrower, a boomerang or a spear. With 
very exaggerated high stepping, the four men 
appear on the place cleared for the ceremony. 
After dancing around for a few moments each 
lies down on the ground in as small a space as 
possible, and covers himself with his shield. 
Suddenly an old man appears armed only with a 
fighting club. He wanders around for some time 



i6o THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

as though he were looking for the tracks of an 
animal. When his back is turned, the four men, 
who have by now risen from the ground, steal 
cautiously up behind him. Suddenly he turns 
and catches sight of the men who are about to 
kill him with one of their weapons. A mock 
fight ensues in which the old man kills all of 
the others. This is repeated several times until 
finally the "dead bodies'' are heaped in front 
of him while he waves a club in the air. This 
play is based upon an actual occurrence which 
took place in the past, when a noted warrior, 
who was thought to have killed a man, was 
tracked on a hunting expedition by four Kur- 
daitchas. With his greater strength he turned 
and killed them all.^ 

This is one of the few examples that we find 
in which the war ceremony is the acting out of 
an historical incident. As a rule, the plays deal 
only with the present, or rather, with the future 
and not with the past,^ but so steeped are the 
Australians in that which has gone before that 
there are very few ceremonies which have not 
some reference to times gone by. This suggests 

* Spencer and Glllen, "Native Tribes of Central Australia," pp. 
476 fF.; Spencer and Gillen, "Across Australia." 
^ J. Harrison, "Themis," p. 44. 



DRAMATIC WAR CEREMONIES l6l 

a rather interesting development in the evolu- 
tion of a number of the savage ceremonies. 
Probably the first war dance that was given 
and the first mimic hunting scene which was 
enacted had as patterns a very definite war or 
hunt; but by constantly reacting the same scene, 
the specific incident was forgotten and the gen- 
eral idea of war or hunting took its place.^ 

In New South Wales the war dance is begun 
by the dancers dashing out and brandishing in 
the air clubs, spears, boomerangs and shields. 
This is followed by the men dividing into groups 
and then rushing at each other for a hand to 
hand conflict. One crowd of men is quickly 
driven oflF the field and are pursued into the 
dark by the victors. Howls, moans and the 
sound of striking clubs give the impression that 
a terrible massacre is taking place. The music 
for all of this has been wild and passionate and 
in perfect keeping with the bloody event which 
was being enacted. This event is, as a rule, 
followed by another dance in which the per- 
formers work themselves up to a high pitch of 
excitement by leaping wildly around the fire, keep- 
ing in time to the rapid beating of the drum.^ 

1 J. Harrison, "Ancient Art and Ritual," p. 42. 

2 E. Grosse, "The Beginnings of Art," p. 219 



1 62 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

It is not always necessary that a war be immi- 
nent in order that the savages may enjoy the 
pleasures of one of these wild dances. Often 
a tribe will go through a war ceremony for the 
exhilaration which is gotten out of it, or to enter- 
tain visitors. But no matter for what purpose 
the dance is given, whether as a rite before an 
actual war or merely for pleasure, it is carried 
out in a very serious manner and there is no 
more levity on a social occasion than there is 
when actual hostilities are threatened. 

Mr. A. C. Haddon describes as follows a war 
dance which he witnessed on the Prince of Wales 
Island: "I was entertained with a war dance, 
a most interesting rehearsal of a dance which 
forty years ago would have commemorated 
some deed of valour or treachery. I gathered 
that such dances were never indulged in for 
mere amusement and were quite distinct from 
what may be termed the festival dance. It was 
evening on a sandy shore. Near a fire sat the 
primitive orchestra. The drums were beaten 
in a rhythmical monotone and a wailing chant 
accompanied them. Gradually from the far 
distance swarthy forms came, as it were, into 
focus, and marched along in twos or threes: 
then, in sinuous course, they performed their 



DRAMATIC WAR CEREMONIES 163 

evolutions, varying the celerity of their move- 
ments to the time of the weird singing. A mass 
of dried herbage thrown on the fire lighted up the 
scene and revealed a glowing picture of savagery. 
The bodies of the dancers were daubed and 
painted with ochre, and they wore various bits 
of colored cloth, beads, shells, etc. Leaves were 
worn in the armlets, in belt, etc. 

**The dance illustrated the 'warpath,* the 
band of pretended warriors sometimes marching, 
more often skipping or stealthily stealing along, 
suddenly coming upon the foe with a *Wahu!' 
Then they skipped two or three times, usually 
raising the right leg, brandishing their weapons 
at the same time. Again and again the dread 
*Wahu!' sounded. This really effective man- 
oeuvre showed to yet greater advantage when, 
instead of being in rank, the men deployed in 
a semicircle facing the glaring fires, then, with 
their glittering eyes and gleaming teeth and the 
waving of bows and arrows and stone clubs, 
one realized how terrible to the lonely and sur- 
prised enemy must have been the *Wahu!' 
of such a foe. 

"The series of war dances concluded with an 
evolution in lively measure, evidently indicative 
of military success, as, with exultant cries, the 



164 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

performers swayed their right hands. The dire 
significance of this last movement was not 
difficult to discover. It represented what for- 
merly occurred after a successful foray, for after 
beheading the slain with their bamboo knives, 
the victorious warriors threaded the heads on 
the rattan slings, which always hung on their 
backs when they went on the warpath, and as 
they returned joyously home they swung their 
ghastly burdens backward and forward with 
jubilant cries." ^ 

This last incident is a very good example of a 
survival of what actually took place in the past 
but has now disappeared. It is interesting to 
note how much of the former history of a people 
may be obtained through these little incidents 
appearing in their myths, legends and dramas. 
In this particular case we are able to say what 
were the precise means adopted for dealing with 
a fallen enemy. 

One of the most dramatic of the war dances 
occurs among the Sea Dyaks of Borneo. This 
is carried out by one man who is, as a rule, in 
full battle attire, and armed with a spear, sword 
and shield. He goes through an elaborate panto- 
mime showing what happens on the actual war- 
1 A. C. Haddon, "Head Hunters," pp. 187 flf. 



DRAMATIC WAR CEREMONIES 165 

path. He starts by pretending to creep through 
the dense undergrowth in a very cautious man- 
ner, peering all about him for the enemy. Sud- 
denly the hiding foe is discovered and a fight 
ensues, which ends when he lies dead on the 
ground. The head of this imaginary foe is 
now taken as it would be after a real fight. 
Frequently the dancer varies the story and in- 
stead of overcoming his enemy, he himself is 
overcome. This gives him a good opportunity 
to display his histrionic ability in the death 
agonies through which he goes before he finally 
succumbs.^ 

In this dance we see a simple story enacted 
in a manner similar to that used by a much 
more primitive man at a time when language 
was very meagre. A person of that period 
would probably have told to his people, in 
almost the same way, the story of a fight. He 
had in acting, a language which was understood 
by all, and this in a large measure made up for 
the lack of a more fully developed spoken tongue. 
As was shown in the first chapter, it was out 
of an acted story such as this that the more 
highly perfected drama grew. 

^ E. H. Gomes, "Seventeen Years Among the Sea Dyaks of 
Borneo," p. 222. 



1 66 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

Among the Haitians an elaborate war drama is 
performed in which are portrayed the motive for 
the war, the departure of the warriors, the am- 
buscades, the surprise of the enemy, the com- 
bat, the celebration of the victory, and the 
return of the war party. The last act consists 
of mortuary rites of a commemorative nature 
for the fallen.^ It is a simple matter to find 
a play on the modern stage which has exactly 
the same outline of a plot as this one just 
described. Many of those dealing with the 
incidents of the Civil War were much less com- 
plicated than this play of the savages. The 
last incident or the mourning for the dead has a 
very close analogy on the Greek stage where in 
such a play as iEschylus' "Agamemnon," the 
chorus cry out, "Woe! Woe! My King! My 
King! How shall I mourn thee? What shall 
I utter from my affectionate soul.^" In the 
"Seven Against Thebes" Antigone and Ismene 
sing over the body of Eteocles as it is borne 
back from the fatal combat with his brother 
Polynices to be buried at Thebes. Antigone 
says, "Thou smotest and wert smitten." Ism. 
"Thou slewest and wert slain. With the spear 

^ J. W. Fewkes, "The Aborigines of Porto Rico," Bureau of 
Ethnology Report, 1903-4, p. 64. 



DRAMATIC WAR CEREMONIES 167 

thou hast killed, with the spear thou wert 
killed." Antig. "Sorrow thou wroughtest!" 
Ism. ** Sorrow thou sufFeredst!" Antig. "Let 
wailing arise!" Ism. "Let the tear well forth!" 
Antig. "There thou Hest low!" Ism. "Thou 
laidest thy foe low." Antig. "Alas, alas, my 
brain is maddened with laments." Ism. "My 
heart within me makes moan." Finally the 
body of Eteocles is carried off the stage to the 
grave, but the tomb is not seen.^ ^schylus' 
"Persae" is also a worship of dead heroes.^ The 
Greeks likewise had war dances whose main 
purpose seems to have been "to familiarize the 
young citizens with the various postures of 
attack and defence and with the evolutions of 
an enemy." ^ 

The majority of the savage war dances are 
accompanied by singing. The following is the 
translation of one of the Polynesian songs. 

"Roll onward like the billows. 
Break on them with the foam and roar 
of the ocean as it bursts on the reefs; 
Hang on them as the forked lightning 
plays above the frothing surf; 

1 Ridgeway, "Origin of Tragedy," p. 142. 

* Ibid., p. 114. 

' J. W. Donaldson, "The Theatre of the Greeks," p. 11. 



1 68 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

Till their line is broken and they flee 
backward like the receding tide." ^ 

The following song is a translation of one used 
by the Iroquois in their dances. 

**I am brave and intrepid — I do not fear 
death or any kind of torture — those 
who fear them are cowards. They are 
less than women. Life is nothing to 
those who have courage. May my enemies 
be confounded with despair and rage!'*^ 

A war play among the natives of Sarawak 
which would have done credit to a more modern 
society opens with a man seated on the ground 
picking a thorn out of his foot. He is evidently 
expecting an attack from an enemy, for his 
weapons are beside him and he is looking around 
suspiciously. Finally the enemy is discovered 
and a conflict takes place. In the course of the 
fight a sudden plunge on the part of the foe so 
injures the man that he falls dying. Before 
finally expiring, he graphically portrays all the 
death agonies. He has hardly ceased struggling 
when the enemy grabs the head and cuts it oflF. 
While holding up the bloody trophy he suddenly 

* G. F. S. Elliott, "The Romance of Savage Life," p. 223. 
' Morgan, "League of Iroquois." Vol. I, p. 260. 



DRAMATIC WAR CEREMONIES 169 

discovers that the man was not an enemy, but 
his brother. At this point the dancer gives 
way to a most horrible performance in which he 
tries to depict the feehngs of remorse. In the 
end. he falls on the ground in a convulsive fit 
and is attended by a medicine man.^ 

Of the numerous types of dramatic dances 
among the Naga tribes of North East India the 
war dance is most important. It commences 
with a review of the warriors who later advance 
and retreat, parrying blows, and throwing spears 
as though in a real fight. They creep along in 
battle array, keeping as near the ground as 
possible so that nothing shows but a line of 
shields. When they are near enough to the 
imaginary enemy they spring up and attack. 
After they have killed the opposing party they 
grab tufts of grass, which represent the heads, 
and these they sever with their battle axes. 
Returning home they carry the clod over their 
shoulders as they would the heads of real men. 
At the village they are met by the women who 
join in a triumphant song and dance. ^ 

* H. Ling Roth, "Natives of Sarawak and British North Borneo," 
Vol. I, p. 250; R. Wallaschek, "Primitive Music," p. 218. 

2 G. M. Godden, "Naga and Other Frontier Tribes of Northeast 
India," 27 J. A. I., p. 5; T. C. Hodson, "The Naga Tribes of 
Manipur," p. (>'j. 



I70 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

These war dances or pantomimes are typical 
of those existing among nearly all savage peoples 
the world over. They show in common the 
means by which the savages hope to get the gods 
on their side in the battle through the appHca- 
tion of sympathetic magic.^ 

War has always been a favorite subject upon 
which to found the story of a play, and the 
distance is not very great between these serious 
rites of the savage and the plays of the Greeks 
possessing the war elements. But it is not even 
necessary to rise to such a civilized community 
in order to see the war drama stripped of its 
important function, for many of the savage 
peoples enact such plays merely for the pleasure 
which they themselves get out of it. So it is 
with many of the ceremonies which we have so 
far studied. They lose their religious idea 
entirely and remain among the people merely 
as sources of enjoyment. These survivals in 
the pleasure plays of savage peoples will be 
dealt with in the next chapter. 

* Among the Tshi-speaking people when the men are away at a 
war, the women go through various pantomimic dances at home in 
order that the men may be successful. Ellis, "Tshi-speaking 
Peoples of the Gold Coast of West Africa," pp. 226 fF. The Masai 
also have war dances. H. H. Johnston, "Uganda Protectorate," 
Vol. II, p. 833; Morgan, "The League of the Iroquois," Vol. I, 
p. 261, 



THE PLEASURE PLATS OF 
SAVAGE PEOPLE 



CHAPTER VII 

THE PLEASURE PLATS OF 
SAVAGE PEOPLE 

IN all of the dramatic performances which 
have thus far been considered there has 
been a dominant note of seriousness. The 
people had ideas to express, petitions and re- 
quests to make to the higher powers, and they 
found that their most eflFective means of accom- 
plishing this was by allowing the imitative 
impulse to have full sway. By so doing, they 
experienced an unconscious pleasure, that is, an 
enjoyment similar to that which a hungry man 
feels when he obtains food. In both of these 
there is need in the body to be satisfied, one 
mental, the other physical, and by satisfying 
it they receive a certain amount of pleasure. 
The civilized man differs from the savage in the 
purpose of the theatre, in that he has an aim in 
attending a dramatic performance no more 
serious than that of enjoyment. Thus we may 
say that as culture advances the more important 
functions for which the drama was intended by 



174 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

its originators drop out, leaving only the shell.^ 
We can compare the savage drama with its 
dominant religious idea to the cocoon of a silk 
worm with the animal inside. There is life and 
vitality there, but as maturity is reached, the 
butterfly cuts its way out, leaving merely the 
covering. This phase of the drama is also seen 
in many savage communities, but differs from 
that of the civilized in that the two remain side 
by side — the serious and the pleasurable. The 
close connection between these two becomes 
very evident at this early stage and we often 
see a play performed at one time for the purpose 
of obtaining some favor from the gods, and the 
next time for the pleasure which it gives to those 
concerned. 

In comparing the savage drama with that of 
people on a higher plane of culture, we find that 
they have many of their essential elements in 
common. For instance, not only in the early 
drama of the savages, but also in that of early 
Greece there is no division between the actors 
and spectators. '*A11 are actors, all are doing the 

^ In discussing the motives of play, Tylor ("Anthropology," p. 
305) says, "It is doing for the sake of doing, not for what is done." 
The drama in the later development of these pleasure plays fulfills this 
description of play, although in its earlier history it is doing, not for 
the sake of doing, but for what is actually done or accomplished. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 175 

thing done, dancing the dance danced. Thus at 
initiation ceremonies the whole tribe assembles, 
the only spectators are the uninitiated, the 
women and the children. No one at this early 
stage thinks of building a theatre, that is, a 
spectators' place." ^ The drama is an act of 
worship to be participated in by all those who 
are allowed the privilege of communicating with 
the gods. There is no idea of a spectacular 
performance carried out for the sake of the 
pleasurable satisfaction which it gives. Several 
stages are passed through before this condition 
is reached. As the ritual becomes more com- 
plicated, and as the people come to feel that 
unless every part is enacted each time in pre- 
cisely the same way the efficacy is lost,^ it is 
impossible for the common man to take part. 
Thus arises the priesthood, composed of men who 
through some peculiar gift are able effectually to 
communicate with the gods and spirits in the 

1 J. Harrison, "Ancient Art and Ritual," p. 216. 

' Among the Areoi of the Polynesian Islands if there was an error 
of a single word in the dramatic recitations the fetes would be sus- 
pended. Moerenhout, "Voyages aux lies du Grand Ocean," Vol. I, 
pp. 502 fF. In the Kwakiutl societies there could be no greater mis- 
fortune than that an error should be made in the recitation or a false 
step in a dance. Such misfortune would bring down on the per- 
formers the ill-will of the directing spirits. Boas, Report of the 
United States National Museum, 1895, PP- 433 ff* 



176 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

prescribed manner.^ The rest of the tribe become 
spectators or silent petitioners. We see a parallel 
case in the Roman Catholic Church where the 
priests are the active worshippers, the congre- 
gation the passive. In Greece the tendency 
was along this same line. The actors became 
separate from the audience and the plays began 
to lose their intensely religious character and 
to become more secular. 

It is a fairly easy matter to make a general 
statement which will apply to one small com- 
munity such as Greece — it is far harder to 
make one which holds true for all savage com- 
munities and for all ceremonies in these com- 
munities. It will therefore be necessary to 
modify to some extent the statement made in 

1 Among the Tshi-speaking people "dancing is a special branch in 
the education of a priest and of a priestess. They must be very pro- 
ficient in this art and they are taught privately by adepts for many 
months before they are allowed to perform in public. The dance is 
always performed to the sound of drums, and it is during it that a 
priest is possessed by a god, and lets fall oracular utterances." Ellis, 
"Tshi-speaking People of the Gold Coast of West Africa," p. 121. 

Among the Polynesians, if a boy wishes to be admitted to one of 
the sacred dramatic societies, he must first give evidence of being 
inspired by the gods. Before initiation he remains on probation for 
months and even years. His stay in the lowest grades is prolonged 
until he has mastered the songs, dances and dramatic performances. 
H. Webster, "Primitive Secret Societies," p. 165; Ellis, "Polynesian 
Research," Vol. I, p. 190. See H. Spencer, " Principles of Sociology," 
Vol. Ill, on the Priest as Actor. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 177 

the last paragraph that the priests always take 
the leading roles. A priest is one who acts as a 
mediator between man and the gods, hence, 
in the strictest sense, all who take part in the 
religious plays are priests. If we look at various 
ceremonies which have been described, we shall 
see that the leading actors are not the so-called 
priests or medicine men in the accepted sense. 
In Australia th« leading role is usually taken by 
one of the older men of the totem, who is versed 
in the lore and traditions of his group. In the 
war ceremonies of all peoples, the warriors, led 
by the chief fighting man, go through the per- 
formance, for it is they who are most vitally 
interested in the success of the expedition. 
They are the strong people whose appeals will 
be more readily answered by the war gods than 
would the requests of a man who had never 
been on the battle field. We might almost call 
them the war priests, for they stand between the 
gods and the people. A general statement 
which can be made is, that those men are chosen 
for the different roles in the dramatic cere- 
monies who for that particular rite are thought 
to be able to obtain from the spirits and gods the 
things needed by the tribe or group. Thus it 
comes about that when the ceremonies lose their 



178 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

religious character and appear as simple pleasure 
plays, the men who before have been taking the 
parts continue to do so because of their great 
ability and long experience. In societies where 
there are two sets of plays — the secular and the 
religious — the same characters appear in both. 

The church dramas of the Middle Ages were 
performed within the church by the priests/ 
but as they came to lose their sacred character 
they were put out of the church. "There was 
also another important reason for this change. 
The plays had become so long and the settings so 
elaborate that they could not be accommodated 
within the walls of the church, and hence they 
were sent out to the porch, the graveyard, and 
finally to the market place.'' ^ The priests, how- 
ever, continued to act in them because of their 
greater proficiency in this art. As time went on 
"the play-cycles required, in many cases, a larger 
number of actors than the ecclesiastical bodies, 
even with the aid of the wandering clerks and 

^ H. Spencer, "Principles of Sociology," Vol. Ill, p. 230. "Little 
as one might have expected it, we find that the pagan genesis of the 
drama was paralleled by the Christian re-genesis of it in Mediaeval 
Europe. It commenced as in India, Greece, and Rome, with repre- 
sentations of sacred subjects by priestly actors. Incidents in sacred 
history were dramatically repeated in edifices devoted to divine 
worship." 

2 Chambers, "The Mediaeval Stage," Vol. II, p. 79. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 179 

the cloister schools, could supply. It was neces- \ 
sary to press the laity into service. It was a 
further step in the same direction when the laity 
took over the control and financing of plays. 
For this, one must look mainly to that most 
important element in mediaeval town life, 
the guilds. Just as the Feast of Fools passed 
from the hands of the clergy into those of the 
societes joyeuses, so did the religious drama into 
those of the more serious confraternities.'' ^ 
Small bands of strolling players were formed 
who wandered from place to place, giving their 
performances in the market squares of the towns. 
Hence we see that the three most important 
periods, for our purpose, in the development of 
the drama — that is, the Savage, the Greek, and 
the Middle Ages — had in their early history a 
strong religious idea which in all but the case 
of Greece finally disappeared, leaving the drama 
as an institution of pleasure. This statement 
might also be extended to cover the drama of 
Japan, India and Java. 

In this connection Ridgeway says: "Thespis 

detached his chorus and dithyramb from some 

particular shrine, probably at Icaria, his native 

place, and taking his company with him on 

1 Chambers, Vol. II, p. 87. 



i8o THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

wagons gave his performances on his extem- 
porized stage when and where he could find an 
audience, not for rehgious purposes, but for a 
pastime. Thus not merely by defining more 
accurately the role of the actor, but also by lift- 
ing Tragedy from being a mere piece of religious 
ritual tied to a particular spot into a great form 
of literature, he was the true founder of the 
Tragic art. 

"This view offers a reasonable explanation of 
Solon's anger on first seeing Thespis act. A 
performance which he would have regarded as 
fit and proper when enacted in some shrine of 
the gods or at a hero's tomb, not unnaturally 
aroused his indignation when the exhibition was 
merely for sport, as Thespis himself said (and 
doubtless also for profit), and not at some hal- 
lowed spot, but in any profane place where an 
audience might conveniently be collected. It 
may of course be said that the offence of Thespis 
in Solon's eyes consisted in the impersonation of 
heroes or of gods. But it is very likely that long 
before this time sacred dramas with impersona- 
tions of the gods were regularly performed in 
temple precincts, as, for instance, the Mystery 
Plays at Eleusis, as part of the regular ritual 
of the deity. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE i8i 

"In process of time actors who had given suc- 
cessful performances of such Mystery and Miracle 
plays at some church in honor of some holy 
personage and for the edification of the faithful, 
began to wander about as strolling players ready 
to perform their piece wherever they could 
secure an audience, be it sacred edifice or inn- 
yard. In so doing they were transforming such 
plays from being merely a piece of religious ritual 
attached to some particular shrine into a true 
form of dramatic literature. 

"Nor is it only in these respects that the medi- 
aeval Christian drama may be compared with 
that of early Greece. Not only was the process 
of development similar, and not only did each 
arouse the same prejudices on the part of the 
more religious and staid part of the community, 
but each sprang from the same deep-rooted 
principle — the honoring and propitiation of 
the sacred dead, the hero and the saint — and 
as a corollary, even of the gods themselves. 
As the men of Sicyon thought that they pleased 
Adrastus by rehearsing and representing his 
sorrows, so the Christian Church honored its 
Divine Founder by continually keeping His 
passion in remembrance, as He himself had 
ordained at the Last Supper. 



1 82 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

"The Roman Church still further carries 
out this same principle of honouring Christ by 
exhibiting the manger-cradle and holy child 
at Christmas and His sepulchre at Easter. To 
this day when every ten years the peasants of 
Ober-Ammergau perform their Passion Play, 
they believe that by this solemn representation 
of the sufferings of Christ they are doing what 
is pleasing in His sight. 

**But if the leader of that company of peas- 
ant actors were to take it to some town or city 
and there perform the sacred drama in a theatre 
for pastime and for lucre, the feeling of their 
fellow villagers, and, I doubt not, of a far wider 
community, would not unnaturally be much the 
same as those roused in Solon's breast by the 
performance of Thespis." ^ 

As has been said here several times before, 
the savage peoples who have the greatest number 
of dramatic ceremonies of a religious character 
are the Australians and the American Indians. 
The same statement holds true for the number 
of pleasure plays. 

Of all the peoples on the North American con- 
tinent the Eskimos take part in the fewest 
dramatic celebrations, probably because of their 

^ Ridgeway, "The Origin of Tragedy," p. 6i. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 183 

hard struggle for existence. What plays they 
have of a pantomimic nature show evidence 
of an Indian influence.^ Among these people 
the dramatic feeling has its outlet in story 
telling, in which the events are graphically 
portrayed. It is here that we see the drama in 
its elementary form, that is, before it has taken 
on a deeper religious purpose. As was shown 
in Chapter I, it was out of such crude attempts 
to express ideas for which there was an inade- 
quate spoken language that the drama devel- 
oped. Hence it is interesting to find among the 
Eskimos this practice still carried out, although 
their spoken language does not need the addition 
of gestures to have their meaning clear. 

After a hunt the hunters tell of their experi- 
ences to an interested group of listeners. The 
slightest details are gone into with the greatest 
care and precision. When telling of a seal hunt 
the right arm is raised as though holding the 
weapon, while the left, which is supposed to be 
the seal, is held straight in front. One narrator 
said, "'When the time came for using the har- 
poon, I looked to it, I took it, I seized it, I 
gripped it, I had it fast in my hand, I balanced 
it, and so forth. This alone may go on for 

* J. Mooney, Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin, Part I, p. 50. 



1 84 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

several minutes, until at the last the hand sinks 
to represent the throw, and after that they do 
not forget to make note of the last twitches 
given by the seal/' ^ 

In one of the villages on the lower Yukon 
two women tell the history of the past and 
display the arts of the present. The first, 
entirely by her gestures, tells the story of the 
life of her father before the arrival of the whites. 
She shows the battles in which he engaged and 
the wars which took place among the different 
villages. "Motions of stealthy approach and 
retreat, then a struggle with the enemy and the 
flight, ending by a sudden turn and killing of 
the pursuer by a spear thrust." The other 
woman then enters and shows by her motions 
the various occupations in which the women take 
part. During the whole performance they keep 
excellent time to the music. ^ 

Among all savage peoples the dance holds an 
important place in their enjoyments. It may 
be divided into two kinds, the gymnastic and 
the mimetic,^ and to the latter, in early times, 

^ Nansen, "Eskimo Life," pp. 71 ff. 

2 E. W. Nelson, "Eskimo about Behring Strait," Bureau of 
Ethnology, 1896-7, Vol. I, p. 356. 

^ E. Grosse, "The Beginnings of Art," p. 207; K. Groos, "The 
Play of Man," p. 92; H. Ellis, "The Philosophy of Dancing," At- 
lantic Monthly, Feb. 1914, pp. 197 fF. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 185 

the drama was indissolubly joined, in fact, fre- 
quently they were almost synonymous. However, 
in many cases the dance was probably of more 
primitive origin than the drama, but at that 
very early period it had no very definite form 
and consisted merely of jumping and hopping 
about. We see evidences of this dance even 
among the animals, which proves that dancing 
is older than man himself. Many of the animals 
dance their love or rather dance before those 
whom they desire. Here again a parallel case 
may be found among savage peoples, for they 
hold love dances at which the young men dis- 
play their beauty of form to the admiring females 
or the female hopes by her skill to win the 
desired mate. In fact, so closely connected is 
the dance with love that among the Omahas 
the same word means to dance and to love. 
But only among human beings do we see the 
dramatic element entering in, for with them 
many of the love dances are of a grossly indecent 
pantomimic nature, but with the animals they 
consist merely of hopping about and displaying 
themselves to each other. It is more common 
among insects and birds than with the larger 
animals. "The male dances, sometimes in 
rivalry with other males, in order to charm the 



1 86 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

female, then after a short or long interval, the 
female is roused to share his ardor and join 
in the dance." ^ 

Although the dance is of so primitive an origin, 
yet "it is of importance, for it stands as the 
source of all the arts that express themselves 
first in the human person." ^ In all probability 
dancing and the drama joined early in the his- 
tory^ of the race and this union came when the 
first pantomime was introduced into the crude 
unmeaning jumping about the campfire. It 
then came about that the stories of the hunts 
were partially danced, those taking part going 
through the pantomime of kilHng the animals. 
Their legends and myths of the past had many 
scenes in which the story was told by the move- 
ments of the dancing figures. 
, One of the simplest and most primitive pleas- 
ure dances is found in Australia. It is a canoe 
dance and might almost appear in one of our 
modern comic operas. "Both men and women 
take part in this dance, painting their bodies with 
white and red ochre, each furnished with a stick 
which represents a paddle. They begin to dance 

1 Havelock Ellis, "The Philosophy of Dancing," Atlantic 
Monthly, Feb. 1914, p. 200. 
* Ibid.y p. 197. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 187 

by stationing themselves in two lines, but with 
the stick across their backs and held by the 
arms, while they move their feet alternately to 
the time of the song with which the dance is 
accompanied. At a given signal they all bring 
the sticks to the front, and hold them as they do 
paddles, swaying themselves in regular time as if 
they were paddling in one of their light canoes." ^ 
In Africa we find that there are few pleasure 
performances which can truly be called dramatic 
and only seldom out of their many dances can 
one be found in which even a simple incident 
is carried through to a conclusion. There are 
hardly any people who enjoy the dance as do the 
Africans, and most of their performances imitate 
the movements of animals,^ but they do little 
besides the mere jumping or hopping around, 
that is, performing the gymnastic dance. All 
events, such as births, marriages, and deaths, 
are occasions for dances and "no noonday sun 
is too hot and no rain too heavy to cause zeal 
to flag or damp the ardour of the people." ^ 

* Smyth, "Aborigines of Victoria," Vol. I, pp. 174 fF.; J. G. 
Wood, "Natural History of Man," Vol. II, p. 65. 

2 J. H. Weeks, "Among the Congo Canibals," p. 157; H. H. 
Johnston, "Uganda," Vol. II, p. 779; G. W. Stow, "The Native 
Races of South Africa," pp. 116 fF. 

' P. T. Talbot, "In the Shadow of the Bush," pp. 293 ff. 



1 88 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

One dance which is an exception to the above 
statement occurs among the Damaras, where a 
victorious war party, represented by the fighting 
men of the village, are welcomed on their return 
by a chorus of women. During the dance the 
men occasionally drive back any of the supposed 
enemies who have the audacity to approach 
them.^ The Bushmen have a baboon dance in 
which the performers imitate the actions and 
grimaces of baboons, jumping, gambolling and 
running around on all fours like a troop of 
excited monkeys.^ 

1 J. S. Wood, "Natural History of Man," Vol. I, p. 348. 

2 G. W. Stow, "The Native Races of South Africa," pp. ii6 ff. 
Wallaschek, "Primitive Music," p. 216; Reade, "Savage Africa," 

P- 195. 

"It is quite possible that some of these dances may have had, at 
one time, a mythical signification attached to them, which would 
only be understood by the initiated. This idea is suggested by a 
myth which Mr. Joseph M. Orpen obtained from a Maluti Bushman 
named 'Qing (King Bleek) who said Cagn (the 'Kaang of Arbousset 
and Callaway and kaggen of Bleek) sent Cogaz to cut sticks to make 
bows. When Cogaz came to the bush the baboons (cogn) caught him. 
They called all the other baboons to hear him and they asked him 
who sent him there. He said his father sent him to cut sticks to 
make bows. So they said, 'Your father thinks himself more clever 
than we are, and he wants those bows to kill us, so we'll kill you,' 
and they killed Cogaz, and tied him up in the top of a tree, and 
they danced round the tree, singing (an intranscribable baboon 
song) with a chorus saying 'Cagn thinks he is clever.' Cagn was 
asleep when Cogaz was killed, but when he awoke he told Coti to 
give him his charms, and he put some on his nose, and said, the 
baboons have hung Cogaz. So he went to where the baboons were 
and when they saw him coming close by, they changed their song 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 189 

One dance of the Eskimos, which occurs among 
the Columbians in a more developed form, is 
participated in by the young men, who, stripped 
to the waist, go through burlesque imitations 
of beasts and birds. Their movements are in 
time to the beating of a tambourine and to the 
singing of the people. Other pantomimic dances 
portray love, hate, jealousy and friendship.^ 
Little comment is needed here to show that 
these dramatic dances are of so simple a char- 
acter that they belong to the lowest stages of 
the drama. For this reason they are of the 

so as to omit the words about Cagn, but a little baboon girl 
said, 'Don't sing that way, sing the way you were singing be- 
fore.' And Cagn said, 'Sing as the little girl wishes,' and they 
sang and danced as before. And Cagn said, 'That is the song I 
heard, that is what I wanted, go on dancing until I return*; and 
he went and fetched a bag full of pegs, and went behind each of 
them as they were dancing and making a great dust, and he drove a 
peg into each one's back, and gave it a crack, and sent them off to 
the mountains to live on roots, beetles, and scorpions, as a punish- 
ment. Before that baboons were mefiy but since that they have tails, 
and their tails hang crooked. Then Cagn took Cogaz down, and 
gave him Canna, and made him alive again.' From the above it is 
quite possible that this dance may have been instituted in honor of 
some festival dedicated to 'Kaang or his son. 'Qing informed Mr. J. 
Orpen that there were certain dances which only certain men were 
allowed to dance: men who had been initiated, and understood the 
meaning of them. Some of these animal dances may belong to this 
class." 

1 H. H. Bancroft, "Native Races of the Pacific States," Vol. I, 
p. 67; E. Grosse, "Beginnings of Art," pp. 207 fF.; W. I. Thomas, 
"Source Book for Social Origins," p. 584; E.W.Nelson, Eskimo 
about Behring Strait." Bur. of Ethn. 1896-7, Vol. I, p. 356. 



I90 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

utmost importance to our study, for it is prob- 
able that if we knew the early history of all 
savage peoples we should find these little bits 
of dramatic art which appear among the Eskimos 
of to-day. It would be difficult to say why these 
people of the north have not advanced to a 
higher stage in this art, but the fact that they 
are living on the edge of subsistence, that the 
population is small, and that the religious totem 
idea plays a very small part in their lives, may 
in some m^easure account for it. It has prob- 
ably been noticed that no people have a well- 
developed drama of pleasure who have not had 
the dramatic religious ceremonies. This cir- 
cumstance is not alone confined to the savages 
but also appeared among the Greeks and in the 
Middle Ages. Hence when we find a people 
in whose lives religion does not now play or has 
not in the past played a dominant part, we are 
pretty safe in concluding that they have few 
pleasure plays. 

Two types of dramatic dance which we have 
noticed ^s being very common among many 
peoples of the world are: first, that of mimick- 
ing the actions of animals either in the hunt or 
merely alone in their native habitat, and, second, 
that of showing the diflFerent scenes from the 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 191 

daily life of the people, such as fishing, hunting, 
and agriculture. These same ideas are carried 
out in the little pleasure plays of the American 
Indians. The Skanlet tribes of British Columbia 
have a fish-hawk dance in which the movements 
of the bird are carefully portrayed.^ The Hill 
tribes of North Aracan have a hunting dance,^ 
and the Indians of California enact scenes of , 
hunting and warfare in which the old women 
assisted the men to carry oflF the game or to 
dispatch the wounded enemies. Similar dances 
take place among the Pueblo Indians, and among 
the Isthmus tribes.^ 

After the actual dance, the next most devel- 
oped form of the drama appears in the crude 
animal imitations and in the portrayal of the 
relation of man to his animal environment. 

We have seen how important a part ceremonies 
play in the life of the Australians, especially ' 
those dealing with the food supply; thus it is 
only natural that when these people are seeking 
pleasure, they should turn to these to find it. 
The inhabitants of this country are of a cheerful 
disposition and very fond of a joke, hence 

^ C. H. Tout, "Streelis and Skanlets Tribes of British Columbia," 
34 J. A. I., p. 329. 

* St. John, "Hill Tribes of North Aracan," 2 J. A. L, p. 239. 
' Bancroft, he. cit., Vol. I, pp. 393, 411, 551, 774. 



192 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

many of the plays consist of a burlesque of 
the more serious hunting rites. In one witnessed 
by Mr. Howitt, two old men were seen standing 
back of the fire at the edge of the cleared space. 
In the darkness of the forest on the other side 
were dimly discernible the rest of the men 
crouching together. They were the "Rock 
Wallabies." An old man came out and drove 
the "animals" past the other man, who was 
supposed to knock each one over with his stick 
as it went by. This represented a real Rock 
Wallaby hunt, where the animals are driven 
past the hunters who are in ambush. This 
pantomime was intended to be comic, for the 
man always missed the animals and for this 
reason was much abused by the others.^ In 
another dance on the same island the men hump 
around, mimicking the motions of a sacred troop 
of the marsupial brutes and in so doing cause 
the audience much merriment.^ 

In the Philippine Islands the following little 
comedy was witnessed by M. de la Gironiere. 
"A wanderer appears who is overcome with 
fatigue and half-starved. All at once he dis- 

1 A. W. Howitt, "Australian Ceremonies," 13 J. A. L, p. 449. 

2 Smyth, "Aborigines of Victoria," Vol. I, p. 173; George Toplin, 
"The Narrinyeri," 1874; Wood, "Natural History of Man," Vol. 
n, pp. 62 ff.; Dawson, "Australian Aborigines," p. 84. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 193 

covers a bee-hive full of honey. Delighted with 
this lucky discovery, he looks forward to sat- 
isfying his appetite on the delicate fare. He 
sets fire to some twigs and sneaks up on tiptoe 
to the hive. First he burns himself, then his 
throat is filled with smoke, and at last he is 
attacked by the bees who are heard humming 
all round, while the man fights about in a lu- 
dicrous manner expressive of the pain caused 
by their sting." ^ 

In the dances or dramatic performances of 
the Papuans of New Guinea there are enacted 
scenes from everyday life in which the mimetic 
hunting of the animals, the actions of the ani- 
mals among themselves in the woods or on 
the plains, and the domestic scenes around the 
camp are carefully portrayed.^ These very simple 
pantomimic dances in which there is no deeper 
purpose than enjoyment were probably indulged 
in at a very early stage in the development of 
the race and many of them have retained their 
original simple character. They form an im- 

^ De la Gironiere, "Adventures d'un Gentilhomme breton aux 
iles Philippines," quoted by K. Mantzius, "A History of Theatrical 
Art," Vol. I, p. 23. 

2 Krieger, "Neu-Guinea," pp. 210 fF.; Wallaschek, "Primitive 
Music," p. 218. The same kind of mimetic dances are held on the 
Murray Islands. Haddon, "Head Hunters," p. 114. 



194 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

portant addition to a study of this sort, for in 
them we see one of the early expressions of the 
imitative desire of man, and they form a step- 
ping stone to an understanding of the higher 
dramatic art which appears among the savage 
peoples. 

Of the performances in North America in 
which the animals are represented, that of the 
Seal Dance is the commonest. The young men 
strip, and though it may be a cold night, they 
go out of the house and throw themselves into 
the water. Soon they reappear, dragging their 
bodies over the sands as do the seals. When 
they enter the house they flop around the fires 
for a while and then they get up and dance.^ 
In one performance they illuminate a wax moon 
out on the water and then pretend to be con- 
versing with the man who is supposed to dwell 
there. 

In South America, among the less civilized 
tribes, we find the enjoyment of imitation as 
strongly developed as in any other quarter of the 
globe. The mosquito tribes of Honduras,^ and 
the Indians of Guiana ^ all have animal dances 

1 Brown, "The Races of Mankind," Vol. I, pp. 35 fF.; Bancroft, 
loc. ctt., Vol. I, p. 200. 

' Bancroft, loc. cit., Vol. I, p. 736. 

' Wallaschek, "Primitive Music," p. 220. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 195 

in which very clever mimicry is carried out, 
some of the performers dressing in the skins of 
the animals better to personate them. 

Among the Fuegians the ancient initiation 
lodge "*etait aussi le theatre de scenes mysteri- 
euses, bizarres, d'origine tres ancienne, dont les 
roles, autrefois tenus par les femmes, avaient 
ete ensuite exclusivement devolvus aux hommes. 
Ceux-ci, diversement grimes, babrouilles de sang 
tire de leurs propres veines, le visage cache par 
des bonnets en ecorce, sortaient de la kina en 
file indienne, sautant ou chantant, poussant 
des cris sauvages, et cherchant a se rendre aussi 
efFrayants que possible. Les femmes et les 
enfants n'etaient pas admis dans Finterieur 
de la kina, mais se pla9aient au dehors en 
spectateurs, manifestaient leur contentement par 
des cris de frayeur, alternant avec des eclats de 
gaiete, et chantaient en meme temps que les 
hommes, mais sans jamais se meler a eux. 
Trois des acteurs jouaient un role particulier; 
Fun etait suppose venir du fond de la mer, le 
second de Finterieur de la terre et le troisieme 
de Fepaisseur des forets. II n'y avait dans 
tout cela, aucune idee propitiatoire envers un 
etre superieur, mais simplement Fintention de 
s'amuser par le spectacle lui-meme.' The Cai- 



196 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

shana, a Brazilian tribe on the Tunantins river, 
retain their masked dances in honor of the Juru- 
pari demon. Among the Tucunas the masked 
dances are now semi-festivals, while among the 
more civilized Egas of Northwestern Brazil the 
masked dances are nothing but theatrical per- 
formances.'/ ^ 

Many of the pleasure plays of the Austrahans 
correspond closely to the comic opera of civilized 
peoples, for they have not only the main dancers 
and singers, but also the chorus, who in many 
cases mimic various animals, such as the emu 
and the kangaroo. 

Captain Cook in his voyage through the South 
Seas tells as follows of a dramatic performance 
which he and his men witnessed on the Mattair 
Bay Island. "As soon as dinner was over, 
which admits of no ceremony, we were con- 
ducted to the theatre, where a company of 
players were in readiness to perform a dramatical 
entertainment. The drama was regularly divided 
into three acts: the first consisted of dancing 
and dumb show; the second of comedy; which 
to those who understood the language was very 

^ Webster, "Primitive Secret Societies," pp. 176-7, quoting from 
"Mission Scientifique du Cap Horn," (Paris, 1891), Vol. VII, p. 377, 
and H. W. Bates, "The Naturalist on the River Amazon," Vol. II, 
p. 376. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 197 

laughable, as Omal and the native appeared 
highly diverted the whole time; the last was a 
musical piece, in which the young princesses 
were the sole performers." ^ 

According to Hutton Webster, many of the 
secret societies which heretofore had a very 
definite religious purpose to perform and into 
which the boys were initiated with great cere- 
mony have become merely dramatic societies 
and their secret houses, into which none but 
the initiated could be admitted, have been turned 
into the theatre for the town.^ In the Congo 
region of Africa, when a boy wishes to enter one 
of these quasi-dramatic societies, he is given a 
sleeping potion. He then swoons in some public 
assemblage and is at once surrounded by the 
fetish man and his assistants, who carry him away 
into an enclosure. The people are told that he 
is dead and that he has gone to the spirit world, 
but that through the power of the fetish man 
he will return.^ A close analogy exists between 
this rite and the one which takes place among 
some of the American Indian tribes where it 
is supposed that at the time of puberty the totem 

1 Cook, "Voyages," pp. 142. 

2 Webster, "Primitive Secret Societies," pp. 160 fF. 

^ Webster, "Primitive Secret Societies," pp. 173 fF.; Glavej "Six 
Years of Adventure in Congo Land," p. 80. 



\ 



198 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

carries the boy's soul away and gives him a new 
one.^ Other societies with their little plays 
wander from place to place giving their per- 
formances as did the strolling players of the 
Middle Ages. 

A very good example of the loss of the reli- 
gious idea in the pleasure plays occurs in New 
Pomerania. There the Duk-Duk Society, which 
in an earlier chapter we saw was seriously used 
during the initiation of the boys and at other 
important seasons, loses this character entirely 
and appears merely as a dramatic organization. 
The members give dramatic representations often 
lasting for months in which two masked figures, 
the Duk-Duk and his wife, Tuburan, are the 
leading actors. The little troupe travel from 
village to village, giving their plays before native 
audiences. 

A tragic performance which has as its basis 
the ceremonial killing of a boy appears among 
the Aht Indians in Northwestern America, 
although the serious purpose for which it was 
originally performed has entirely vanished. A 
youth comes on the stage with his hands tied 
behind his back by means of long cords, the 
ends of which are held by men who drag him 

^ See Chapter IV, on Initiation Ceremonies. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 199 

about. Suddenly the chief, armed with a long 
knife, appears. This he plunges into the youth's 
back several times until the victim, covered 
with blood, staggers and falls lifeless. The rest 
of the actors carry the body outside. When 
away from view of the spectators the "corpse" 
washes itself and puts on its blanket. The knife 
that was used has a blade which sinks into the 
handle when it strikes any object, and the 
"blood" is a mixture of red gum, resin, oil and 
water, which was carried in the mouth of the 
victim. Throughout the whole performance the 
spectators sing and beat time on drums. ^ 

One play which takes place among the Indians 
of the Aleutian Islands is deserving of more 
than a passing reference, because of its world- 
wide popularity. A hunter goes forth in the 
quest of game and seeing a beautiful bird shoots 
it. The bird, however, suddenly revives and 
turns into a lovely woman with whom he at 
once falls in love.^ There are few countries 
in the world in which this myth or fairy story 
does not appear in some form, but of all savage 
peoples the Aleuts are the only ones who have 

^ Brown, "The Races of Mankind." Vol. I., p. 38; Buncroh, loc.ctt., 
Vol. I. p. 200; Wood, "Natural History of Man," Vol. II, pp. 737 fF. 

* Wallaschek, "Primitive Music," p. 226; H. H. Bancroft, 
"Native Races of the Pacific States," Vol. I, p. 93. 



200 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

put it into dramatic form. Among the Eskimos 
the story runs that a wise and beautiful maiden 
did something to incur the enmity of a powerful 
wicked fairy and was immediately changed into 
an owl.^ In Russia a youth is about to shoot 
a swan when the bird prays him to desist. 
Suddenly it rises from the sea and turns into a 
maiden whom the youth weds.^ A very similar 
tale is told by the Arawaks of Guiana and by the 
Algonquins.^ It is impossible to go into the 
study of bird-lore and to show how closely 
wrapped up with the totem the whole idea has 
become.'* For our purpose here it is merely to 
be noticed in the example given that the subject- 
matter of the play, which at one time was prob- 
ably religious, is similar to that scene in the 
children's plays of to-day. The dramatization 
of Little Red Riding Hood, Jack and the Bean 
Stalk, and Cinderella is in exactly the same class 
as that of the myth of the Hunter and the Bird, 
which is enjoyed so much by the Indians of 
the Aleutian Islands. 

* M. C. Walker, "Bird Legend and Life," p. 5. Ophelia says 
(Hamlet, Act IV, scene V), " They say the owl was a baker's daughter." 

2 E. S. Hartland, "The Science of Fairy Tales," p. 259. 
' Ibid., pp. 261, 268. 

* For a full discussion of bird-lore, see Charles de Kay, "Bird 
Gods." 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 201 

The Buffalo dance of the Iroquois is based 
on an old legend. It started during a warlike 
expedition of the Iroquois against the Cherokees. 
When the attacking party had reached the 
Kentucky "salt lick," they heard the buffaloes 
"singing their favorite songs, bellowing and 
grumbling." From all this noise the Iroquois 
made up their music and from the actions of 
the buffalo they constructed their dance.^ 

Some of the savage peoples have more or 
less elaborate stages and settings for their per- 
formances. Among many tribes in North Amer- 
ica, for instance, drama for pleasure has reached 
such a high plane that they possess many of the 
stage properties and accessories used by those 
with a very much higher degree of culture. At 
one end of a big hall a curtain is hung in order 
to conceal the preparations which are being 
made. The actors make their entrances and 
exits through concealed openings in the painted 
back wall. On the stage itself, which in the 
majority of cases is not raised, are placed effigies 
and other paraphernalia which will add to the 
reality of the scenes portrayed. The subject- 
matter of the plays is varied and includes his- 
torical or mythical events, parts of the cultural 

^ Morgan, "League of Iroquois," Vol. I, p. 276. 



202 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

history, and many of the everyday occurrences, 
such as hunting and fishing trips, and episodes 
from the various wars. The actors impersonate 
not only the gods and heroes, but also the animals 
of the hunt. Nearly all of the dramatic presen- 
tations are accompanied by singing and dancing.^ 
One of the most complicated and dramatic 
performances of the North American Indians 
is held among the Hopi Indians during the 
March moon, and deals with the Great Serpent, 
called Paliilakonti. This performance, which 
is one of many similar performances, at one time 
had a religious motive, but now this has been 
lost in the more predominant dramatic element. 
This drama of the Great Serpent takes place 
simultaneously in six or seven kivas, the actors 
passing from one to the other. In each kiva by 
the fireplace in the centre of the room sit two 
old men who continually feed the fire with small 
pieces of wood. These men also have big 
blankets which they hold over the fire at the 
entrance of the actors so that the stage may be 
set without being seen by the audience. The 
play consists of six acts which seem to be largely 
dissociated from each other. 

1 Bureau of Ethnology Bulletin, 30, Part I, p. 400; H. H. Bancroft, 
loc. cit.y Vol. I, p. 200; Jewitt, "Narratives," p. 389. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 203 

At the beginning of the first act, as the play 
was observed, a voice was heard outside of the 
hatchway asking for admittance. Having been 
told to enter by the old men, the actors slowly 
descend the ladder. At this moment the old 
men stood up and covered the light of the fire 
with their blankets. The actors, who were 
masked, had with them long poles on which was 
a cloth screen, or drop curtain, and under their 
blankets various other objects which were to 
be used. When the stage was set, the blankets 
were dropped and the following scene was pre- 
sented to the audience. 

On the floor was set up a miniature field of 
corn made of small clay pedestals with sprouts 
of corn projecting from them. Behind this 
hung the decorated cloth screen which reached 
from one side of the room to the other and 
nearly to the top rafters. On this were painted 
various designs and symbols such as human 
beings, birds, rain clouds, lightning, and falling 
rain. About two feet from the bottom was a 
row of six circular disks, the borders of which 
were made with plaited corn husks, while in the 
middle of each was a picture of the sun. The 
screen was upheld on each side by men wearing 
masks. On each side of the screen stood men 



204 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

wearing grotesque masks and short ceremonial 
kilts. One of these men was dressed as a 
woman who carried in her hand a basket of 
meal and an ear of corn. The play began with 
a song and dance in which all but the last 
mentioned man took part. Suddenly a hoarse 
roar, made by one of the concealed actors 
blowing through a gourd, resounded from behind 
the screen, and immediately the circular disks 
opened outward. These were seen to be flaps 
which covered orifices out of which simulta- 
neously protruded six artificial heads of serpents 
realistically painted. Each had enormous pro- 
truding goggle eyes and on the head, a curved 
horn, back of which was a row of feathers. 
These effigies were thrust gradually into view 
until they revealed four or five feet of painted 
body. As they reached their fullest extent the 
song became louder and louder. The effigies 
moved back and forth, raising and lowering their 
heads in time to the music. They seemed to 
be biting ferociously at each other and viciously 
darting at the men standing near the screen. 
This continued for a while until suddenly the 
heads of the serpents bent down to the floor, 
across the imitation corn field, knocking over 
the clay pedestals and the corn leaves which they 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 205 

supported. Shortly after this the song became less 
in volume, the effigies slowly withdrew through 
the openings, the flaps descended, the roar behind 
the screen ceased, the fire was covered up by 
the old men, and the first act was over. 

In the second act a Buffalo Dance took place. 
Several men wearing helmets supposed to repre- 
sent the heads of the buffalo and having on 
their backs shaggy skins in order to better com- 
plete the realistic picture, carried in their hands 
zigzag pieces of wood which were supposed to 
be symbolic of lightning. These imitation buf- 
faloes were accompanied by a masked man and 
boy representing eagles. These danced before 
the buffalo, uttering calls in imitation of birds. 

In the third act a somewhat elaborate dance 
was carried out by a masked woman who repre- 
sented the Spider Woman whom we have noticed 
earlier in the myth of the Snake-Antelope 
fraternities. 

The fourth act opened by a man wearing a 
very shabby mask and bearing a heavy bundle 
on his back slowly coming down the ladder. 
He pretended to sHp on each rung, but caught 
himself before falling, and eventually reached 
the bottom without accident. He opened his 
bundle and took out a metate and a meal grind- 



2o6 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

ing stone which he arranged on the floor before 
the fireplace. A second man with a Hke bundle 
did the same, the two men seating themselves 
by the fire. Next two girls entered and knelt 
by the stones, and facing the fire assumed the 
positions of girls when grinding corn. Then 
entered the chorus, made up of a procession of 
masked men who filed around the room and 
halted in Hne behind the kneeling girls. As 
soon as these latter were in position, they began 
to dance a solemn dance and to sing an accom- 
panying song. The girls kept time to the song 
by rubbing the mealing stones back and forth 
over the metates and the kneeling men clapped 
their hands in time to the music. This con- 
tinued for a while, then the girls arose and 
danced in the middle of the room, posturing 
their bodies and extending their hands in which 
they carried the ears of corn. 

The fifth act was in many ways similar to 
the first, with the exception of the fact that the 
men tried to wrestle with the serpents and were 
in each case overcome. 

In the last act the serpent effigies again 
appeared, only this time out of two large jugs. 
They waved their heads around, knocked over 
the corn field, struggled with each other, and 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 207 

finally disappeared back into the jugs. The 
movements of these snakes were carried on by 
invisible wires which were strung to the top of 
the kiva and operated by hidden performers. 

During some years there are as many as nine 
acts performed instead of six. Sometimes the 
screen performance is accompanied by an exhi- 
bition by a masked man or men who pretend 
to struggle with the snake effigy which they 
carry in their arms. This performance consists 
mainly in twisting these effigies about the body 
and neck of the performer. The serpent effi- 
gies in this incident were manipulated by one 
arm of the actor which was concealed in the 
body of the serpent, but a false arm is tied to 
the shoulder in place of the hidden arm to de- 
ceive the spectators. 

Frequently in the fourth act, in place of the 
two girls grinding corn, they have marionettes 
who represent the corn maidens. These two 
figures are seated by the fire and are skilfully 
manipulated by wires going to a concealed man. 
All the motions of the living girls are gone 
through by these little figures, even to the rub- 
bing of the meal on the face, which is done 
frequently by the grinders.^ 

^ See drama of Java, Wilken, "Volkenkunde." 



2o8 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

The substitution of marionettes for masked 
girls suggests an explanation of the use of idols 
among the Hopi. A supernatural being of the 
Hopi Olympus may be represented in ceremony 
or drama by a man wearing a mask, or by a 
graven image or picture, a symbol of the same. 
Sometimes one, sometimes the other method of 
personating the god is employed, and often 
both. In the latter method the image may be 
used on the altar, while the masked man appears 
in the public exhibition in the pueblo plaza. 
Neither idol nor masked personators are wor- 
shipped, but both are regarded as symbolic 
representations, in which possibly the gods may 
temporarily reside. 

So in the use of marionettes to represent the 
Corn Maidens in the theatrical exhibition or 
personation by masked girls in the same role. 
They are symbolic representations of the mythic 
maidens whose beneficent gifts of corn and 
other seeds, in ancient times, is a constant 
theme in Hopi legends. 

We are justified in calling the preceding per- 
formance a theatrical exhibition rather than a 
religious ceremony for the following reasons. 
Many of the sacred objects which are always 
present in a religious ceremony of the Hopis, 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 209 

such as the altar, the feather sticks, and the 
medicine and medicine bowl are here absent. 
The performers do not belong to any special 
religious fraternity, and all the men, women and 
children are permitted to witness the perform- 
ance — a thing unheard of in their religious 
ceremonies. The paraphernalia used are not 
ancient as is the case with most of the things 
used in a religious ceremony. 

The explanation of these theatrical perform- 
ances must be sought in the symbolization of 
legendary events, part historical, part mythical. 
Since these performances deal with mythologi- 
cal subjects the actors are personations of mythic 
or supernatural beings. 

The effigies represent the Great Serpent, a 
supernatural personage of importance in all 
their legends. This being is associated with the 
Hopi version of the flood, for it is said that in 
ancient times, while the ancestors of certain 
clans lived in the far south, at a place called 
Palatkwabi, this monster on one occasion rose 
through the middle of the pueblo plaza to the 
zenith, drawing after him a great flood, which 
submerged the land and obHged the Hopi to 
migrate, and to seek refuge in the north, their 
present home. At this time, which was long 



2IO THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

ago in their annals, the Serpent rose, and, calling 
out from the clouds, demanded the sacrifice 
of a boy and girl. To this demand the Hopi 
acceded with children of their chiefs, whom the 
monster took, and sank back into the earth, 
leaving a black rock to mark the place of 
sacrifice. 

When the two serpent effigies automatically 
rise from the two vases, throwing back the 
semicircular flaps with rain-cloud symbols, it 
represents the event recorded in legends — the 
Hopi version of the flood. The snake effigies 
knocking over the miniature field of corn sym- 
bolize floods; possibly wind, which the Great 
Serpent brings. The effigies of the monsters 
emerge through orifices closed by disks, upon 
which sun symbols are depicted, to show how 
floods which destroy the fields come from the 
sky, the realm of the sun. The masked men, 
called "mudheads," are ancients which have 
come to have superhuman powers in causing 
corn to grow and mature. They struggle with 
the monsters who would destroy the farms of 
man. The acts in which they appear represent 
in a symbolic way the contest of early man 
with supernatural powers which set at naught 
the labors of the agriculturist. But nowhere is 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 211 

the dramatic element more prominent than in the 
representation of the conversion of corn into 
meal, when the personators of the Corn Maids, 
or effigies of the same, grind the meal in the 
kivas or public plazas. We have this exhibi- 
tion in at least two forms, one by figurines, 
another by masked girls. Although the masks 
or maskettes which these girls wear vary slightly 
in symbols, there is little doubt that they repre- 
sent the Corn Maids, who are likewise represented 
by the two figurines. 

All the acts, given for the instruction or 
amusement of spectators, are symbolic dramatic 
representations of events in the cultural history 
or life of the Hopi, especially those recounted 
in the legends of their clans. They are rude 
mystery plays of a religious nature — develop- 
ments from archaic ceremonies which have 
come to have a secular as well as religious use. 
While aflPording entertainment, which the Hopi 
greatly enjoy, they instruct the spectators in 
the mysteries of religion, as the Hopi regard 
this sentiment.^ 

On the island of Java, where a high civiliza- 

^ J. S. Fewkes, "A Theatrical Performance at Walpi." Pro- 
ceedings of the Washington Academy of Sciences, Dec. 28, 1900, Vol. 
II, pp. 605 fF.; A. M. Stephen, "The Paliilakonti — a Tuscayan 
Ceremony," Journal of American Folk-lore, 1893, PP- ^^9 ff* 



212 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

tion has existed for thousands of years, the 
drama takes on many unique characteristics. 
The basis of this drama, or Wajang,^ seems to 
be the puppet shows, which may be divided 
under two heads, those in which the actual 
puppets are used, and those in which human 
beings take the parts of puppets. When a per- 
formance of the first type occurs, a screen, 
upon which the shadows appear, is stretched 
across one end of a room. In front of this the 
spectators sit, but it often happens that the 
male members of the audience may sit behind 
the screen with the manipulator, or Dalang, 
if they desire, so that they may see not only the 
shadows, but also the puppets themselves. 
The Javanese distinguish three kinds of Wa- 
jang. In the first, which is the oldest and most 
original, the stories are taken from Hindu tra- 
ditions, such as the Ramayama and Mahabha- 
rata. They deal with the oldest mythological 
history at a time when the gods had close inter- 
course with men. The gods, demi-gods and 
other beings are represented in this Wajang 
by means of puppets of a hideous shape. They 
are cut out of buflPalo leather and are about 
two feet high with movable joints and are cov- 

^ The word "Wajang" means shadow, or apparition. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 213 

ered with paint of various colors. The arms 
are extremely long and thin, while the counte- 
nances are sharp as the beak of a bird and are 
provided with monstrous noses and hideous 
canine teeth. An outfit of these puppets repre- 
sents a large capital. One man is known to 
have a set which is worth about 3000 gulden, 
although the average cost of two hundred puppets 
ranges between 180 and 700 gulden.^ 

In the second type of Wajang the story is 
taken from some of the Javanese hero myths. 
The puppets in this performance are less expen- 
sive than those made in the first sort of Wajang. 
They are usually made out of thin flat wood, 
the hands alone being made of buffalo hide. 

In the third type the puppets are not flat 
but round and no screen is used for the per- 
formance. This means, of course, that the spec- 
tators see the puppets and not their shadows 
and for this reason they can be exhibited in 
the daytime. The story of these plays deals 
with more modern history than in the case of 
either of the other two. 

In all three types the puppets are manipulated 
by one man, usually the owner, who also recites 
the lines of the play. He is assisted by an orchestra 

1 Gulden = $.40. 



214 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

and also by a singer who attempts, during the in- 
termissions, to amuse the audience by her songs. 
In many locaHties there are performances 
given, in which the puppets are replaced by 
human beings, but their actions are so stiff and 
awkward that they might well be controlled 
by strings and wires. They do not speak and 
merely follow the action of the lines as they are 
recited by the Dalang. This man is as impor- 
tant a functionary in the drama of the Javanese 
as is the Choregus in the drama of the Greeks. 
He is treated in the community with great 
reverence and respect, and when he supplies 
his own puppets he does not have to serve in the 
army or in any other public capacity and he is 
exempt from the payment of land taxes with the 
understanding that his village companions are 
to pay his share. In the country districts it 
frequently happens that these men can neither 
read nor write and hence the parts which they 
recite are taught to them by Master Dalangs. 
In the cities, however, these men are very 
learned and not only can read and write, but 
also possess great knowledge of the native lit- 
erature. It is a very difficult thing to become 
an accomplished Dalang, for one must be elo- 
quent, must have a large vocabulary at his 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 215 

disposal, and must know the Javanese etiquette 
in the smallest details. He must have a good 
memory and a quick wit to fill in the gaps in 
case he forgets his lines. The Dalang finds in 
the Wajang performance his means of sub- 
sistence and hence he must become very expert 
if he wishes to succeed. A good man will often 
earn as much as 25 gulden in an evening, but out 
of this he must pay all expenses. 

The purpose of these Wajang seems to be 
threefold: pleasure, teaching, and religion. A 
marriage is never properly consummated and the 
blessings of the gods cannot rest upon the pair, 
if the Wajang is omitted. In sickness or for 
any undertaking whatever, it is proper to make 
a promise of a Wajang performance, if there 
should be a fortunate outcome.^ A Javanese 
will say that one aim of these plays is to give 
the people a better insight into the history of 
the country.^ The moral teaching in this drama 
is a negligible quantity, for acts of the greatest 
indecency are presented. The heroes, gifted 
with invulnerability, armed with irresistible 
weapons, backed up by celestial powers, can 
present very little inspiration, because bravery 

^ See the Sun Dance of the Plains Indians. 
* See the Australian Initiation Ceremonies. 



2i6 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

is for the people almost unknown. Perhaps 
at one time the drama in Java performed the 
important rites which we find laid at its door in 
other parts of the world, but that time is past 
and it exists at the present time largely for the 
pleasure which it affords to the people.^ 

The height reached by the drama among the 
so-called savage peoples is in the plays of the 
Ancient Peruvians and the Aztecs. The "civi- 
lization" of these people is so well known that 
it would be vain repetition to discuss it here. 
However, the dramatic phase deserves a very 
prominent place in this study of primitive forms 
of the drama. The Peruvians were very clever 
in composing tragedies and comedies which were 
played before their kings and nobility on festi- 
val occasions. The tragedies dealt with military 
deeds, triumphs, and victories or portrayed the 
splendor of former kings and heroes. The com- 
edies had for their subject-matter agriculture 
or other household subjects. These people also 
understood blank verse. The actors who took 
part in these plays were not the common people, 
but noblemen and their sons.^ In some other 

1 G. A. Wilken, "Volkenkunde," Ch. V, pp. loi fF. 

' "The Royal Commentaries of Peru," written originally in Span- 
ish by the Inca, Garcilasso de la Vega, 1688, p. 49; W. I. Thomas, 
"Decennial Publications of the University of Chicago," First Series, 
4: pp. 241 fF. See the "No" Plays of Japan. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 217 

high civiHzations, such as that of Rome, the 
acting profession was looked down upon and 
those who took part were in a class by 
themselves.^ But looking at a lower civiliza- 
tion we see that often the chief, the priest, and 
the actor were one and the same person; in fact, 
the most prominent men in the tribe were those 
who could act the best and these formed a society 
of their own, not below, as in the case of some 
more advanced civilization, but very far above 
the common throng. 

Among the Aztecs of Mexico the drama had 
reached a very high plane of development, and 
many of their plays were written in poetic form. 
There was no regular building devoted to the 
drama, but at the time of a performance a 
platform, which, according to Cortez, was six 
feet high and thirty feet square, was erected in 
the market-place of the town. In some vil- 
lages this was permanent. The principal one, 
which was at Tlatelulco, consisted of a terrace 
of stone. When it was to be used it was deco- 
rated with branches of trees, and various colored 
mats with the coat of arms of the city upon 
them, were hung around the sides. 

If a stage of this sort was not used, the lower 

^ See Chambers "The Mediaeval Stage." 



2l8 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

step or porch of the temple was made to serve 
for the performance. This was decorated for 
the occasion with arches made from trees, 
feathers, and flowers, and from which hung 
birds, rabbits, fruits, and other objects. It 
was to this outdoor theatre that the people 
hastened after dinner. When all was ready 
the actors appeared and went through various 
scenes of buffoonery in which the deaf, lame, 
blind and paralyzed were mimicked. At other 
times merchants, mechanics, or prominent citi- 
zens were burlesqued. "Each actor endeavored 
to represent his role in the most grotesque 
manner possible. He who was for the moment 
deaf gave nonsensical answers to questions put 
to him; the sick man depicted the effects of 
pain and so forth. '^ When these had finished, 
other actors dressed as beetles, toads, or lizards 
took their places. A conversation ensued be- 
tween these various animals in which each 
explained its function on the earth and said 
that it had been here first. These actors in 
hopping and jumping around the stage were 
clever in representing the actions of the animals 
which they impersonated. Following these were 
the pupils from the seminaries and the boys 
from the temple, who were dressed as birds and 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 219 

butterflies. These little actors hid in the trees 
while the priests pelted them with pellets of 
earth and while doing this gave them comic ad- 
monitions. The performance ended by a ballet 
in which all of the performers took part. 

The actors were all very carefully rehearsed 
in their parts so that no slips would be made. 
The children were taken in hand by the priests 
when they were very young and trained in 
singing. They were taught long epic poems in 
which the deeds of great heroes were set forth. 
These poems were probably used during these 
festival occasions. 

This description of the drama of Mexico is 
of special interest, for it is the only one which 
has yet been found. The kind of acting dis- 
played "recalls the stage of Thespis rather 
than the art of iEschylus," but it is none the 
less important in completing the picture of the 
drama of the lower races of man.^ 

Among many savage peoples the plays are of 
an historical character wherein one portrayed 
actual events of the past. 

The Mayas of Yucatan have bands of pro- 
fessional actors who wander from house to house 

1 Biart, "The Aztecs," pp. 302 fF. 
Bancroft, loc. cit., Vol. II, pp. 291 ff. 



220 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

giving little plays, for which they receive gifts. 
At regular entertainments these bands hold 
performances under the leadership of a master 
of ceremonies. He not only gives instruction 
to the actors but also directs the singers and 
musicians. This personage is very similar to 
the one who conducts some of the plays in 
Australia and on the Andaman Islands.^ As a 
rule, the plays are of an historical character, 
based on some deeds of their ancestors or on 
other important events of the past.^ 

The Guajiqueros, although not a civilized 
people, tell much of their early history in the 
drama, which has come to be a well-recognized 
institution among them. A square piece of 
ground is chosen for the performance. In two 
corners are set up single poles, one of which 
bears the head of a deer, and the other that of 
a jaguar. When everything is ready, a dull 
music is heard outside and presently two bands 
of youths slowly enter the square and take 
up their positions around the poles which bear 
their respective insignia. After they have settled 
themselves, each side sends out a man, who, 
pretending to be bent with age, dances around 

^ See Ch. VII, pp. 227, 230 (note). 
2 Bancroft, loc. cit., Vol, II, pp. 711 fF. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 221 

in a grotesque manner, much to the amusement 
of the spectators. Soon these two old men meet 
and a Hvely discussion ensues, which ends in 
both returning in a rage to their respective 
camps. When these ambassadors have told 
the men of the result of the conference, great 
excitement takes place. Both parties start to 
dance backward and forward around the square 
until they meet in the centre. Again the old 
men step forth, one at a time, and recount the 
deeds of prowess and bravery of their own 
tribes. This brings shouts of joy from one side, 
but hisses and other signs of disapproval from 
the other. Finally such a pitch of excitement 
is reached that the men are unable to contain 
their wrath any longer. The talking ceases, 
the music begins, and a mimic combat is in full 
swing. After advancing and retreating a number 
of times the jaguars lose their standard and take 
flight. The victors execute a dance of triumph, 
but this is soon turned to grief when they realize 
how many of their friends have fallen. With 
heads bent upon their knees, they break out 
into loud moans and sobs. Finally one of them 
arises and gives a eulogy for the fallen and this 
is followed by certain ceremonies and sacrifices. 
Hardly have they finished when the conquered 



222 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

are seen to be approaching with lowered eyes 
and carrying in their hands tribute, which they 
lay at the feet of the victors. This brings the 
performance to an end.^ 

In Samoa the natives give dramatic perform- 
ances showing some of their relationships with 
the whites. The interesting circumstance in 
the particular play about to be mentioned is 
that women take all the parts rather than the 
men. It represents the visit of a naval officer 
and his men to a native village. The leading 
woman acts the part of the officer, and the other 
girls the sailors.^ They go through a mock drill 
"in which it is hard to say which is the more 
grotesque, the imitation of the manual of arms 
performed with cocoanut leaf stalks in place 
of muskets, or the attempt of the girl to give 
orders in some sort of gibberish, which she thinks 
reproduces the sound of the English words." 
After the drill is over the girls take again their 
natural characters as members of the village.^ 

Some years ago a great tidal wave swept over 
some of the Polynesian Islands, kilHng many of 

* Bancroft, loc. cit.y Vol. I, pp. 737 fF. 

2 In the drama of Java the natives imitate the daily life of Chinese 
and Arabs, and even Europeans are represented in a most laughable 
manner. G. A. Wilken, "Volkenkunde," Ch. V. 

3 Churchill, "Samoa 'Uma'," p. 76. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 223 

the inhabitants and destroying much property. 
A very few poeple escaped in small canoes to 
some of the neighboring islands which were 
untouched by the storm. The story of this 
event is now acted by about six or seven natives. 

During the performance an epic poem is sung 
teUing of the various tragic events. First, a 
man comes in, carrying a young sapling which 
he sticks into the ground. This represents the 
young and flourishing colony before the dis- 
aster. The next man carries an ax, with which 
he cuts down the tree; this is the tidal wave 
striking the islands. The last scene consists 
of all the actors pulling a small canoe away, 
which is the escape of the few survivors. During 
this part the song changes to a dirge. ^ 

This bit of dramatic representation, simple 
as it is, shows one very important phase in the 
study of the exact history of savage peoples. 
There is here the acting out of a known incident 
which took place within the memory of the now 
living inhabitants of the Polynesian Islands. 
This event has been put into the form of a very 
definite epic poem-play. The time will come in 
the future when the memory of this event will 

^ Prof, Crampton of Columbia University, Sigma XI lecture 
delivered in the Sheffield Scientific School, March 7, 191 1. 



224 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

have passed out entirely, but the play will 
remain as a tradition whose origin is lost in 
obscurity. Our descendants may see this acted 
and then by looking up the records will find 
that such an occurrence really took place. Hence 
there is a means there of determining the truth 
or falsity of tradition, and may, perhaps, help to 
determine how some of the people came to occupy 
the islands where they now live. 

In order to show how important it is in de- 
termining the history of a people, if a means is 
found of checking up some of their traditions, a 
quotation will be given from Tylor. **The South 
Sea Islanders, who till quite lately had no writing, 
were intelligent barbarians, much given to hand- 
ing down recollections of bygone days, and in 
one or two cases which it has been possible to 
test among them, it seems as though memory 
may really keep a historical record long and 
correctly. It is related by Mr. Whitmee, the 
missionary, that in the island of Rotuna there 
was a very old tree under which, according to 
tradition, the stone seat of a famous chief had 
been buried; this tree has lately blown down, 
and sure enough, there was a stone seat under 
its roots, which must have been out of sight for 
centuries. In the Ellice group the natives de- 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 225 

clared that their ancestors came from a valley 
in the distant island of Samoa generations before, 
and they preserved an old worm-eaten staff, 
pieced to hold it together, which in their as- 
semblies the orator held in his hand, as the 
sign of having the right to speak. This staff 
was lately taken to Samoa and proved to be 
made of wood that grew there, while the people 
of the valley in question had a tradition of a 
great party going out to sea exploring, who 
never came back." ^ 

Among the Euahlayi tribe of Australia there 
is a play, or rather a dramatic incident, which 
tells of the coming of the first boat up the Bar- 
won. A log is hollowed out, plastered over 
with mud, and painted to represent the boat. 
A smaller log, bored out, is placed in the middle 
for the funnel. In one side is a little hollow 
in which a fire is made so that the smoke may 
pour out of the stack. The natives, who first 
appear, represent the various birds, such as 
cranes, pelicans, black swans, and ducks. The 
motions of each bird are graphically represented, 
and, as they perceive the strange boat their 
startled cries are given. This noise causes some 
armed natives to come on to the scene in order 

* Tyler, "Anthropology," p. 374. 



226 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

to discover the cause of the disturbance. When 
they see the boat they start back in astonish- 
ment, but finally come together for a consulta- 
tion in order to determine the best method of 
dealing with this strange monster. One by one 
they seize their weapons and approach the shore 
in order to get a better view of the boat. At 
this instant some one stokes the fire so that 
clouds of smoke and sparks belch forth. In 
terror the blacks retreat into the bush.^ 

In these last two descriptions the basis of the 
action has been some real historical event which 
has been recorded in this dramatic form, and 
while they can hardly be called plays, for there is 
no plot, yet they clearly belong in a discussion 
of this sort as showing an early development 
in the pure form of the drama. 

One bit of drama of the Australians shows 
their keen perceptive powers and their ability 
to act out an incident seen or experienced. It 
is acted by one man and shows his endeavor 
to cross the Snowy River in a leaky canoe during 
a flood. He starts by pushing the canoe oflF 

^ Parker, "The Euahlayl," pp.130 fF. At times of festivities a 
burlesque on the more serious war dance is given, in which are shown 
the preparations, the warpath, the attack and defeat of the enemy, 
and the joyful return. 

E. Palmer, "Notes on Some Australian Tribes," 13 J. A. I. p. 289. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 227 

and paddling into the stream. When there, 
a leak is discovered and he tries very ineffec- 
tually to bale it out. Faihng in this, he makes 
a hasty retreat to the shore, stops up the hole 
with mud, and finally paddles successfully 
across.^ 

In some of the plays in Australia the natives 
display their histrionic ability by acting tragedy, 
comedy, and farce, all of which are of their 
own composition. In late years many of the 
scenes represent incidents which have taken 
place in their contact with the whites. Mr. 
Gideon S. Lang witnessed a very elaborate play 
at which about five hundred natives were present, 
but only a small portion of these took part. 
The stage was in an open glade which was about 
two hundred yards long and had a rather thick 
growth of trees for the background. At one 
end was the orchestra composed of one hundred 
women and led by a well-known native named 
Eaglehawk. "The leader," says Mr. Lang, 
"chanted a description of the scenes as they 
passed, accompanied by the women, their voices 
continuously repeating what seemed to be the 
same words, while they beat time by striking 
with a stick a quantity of earth, tightly rolled 

* Howitt, "Native Tribes of Southeast Australia," pp. 423 ff. 



228 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

up in a piece of cloth or opossum rug. The 
moon shone brightly, lighting up the stage and 
the tops of the trees, but casting a deep shadow 
below. This shadow, however, was again relieved 
by several large fires on each side of the stage, 
leaving a clear view to Eaglehawk and the or- 
chestra, behind whom stood the spectators, the 
whites being in the centre. The first act of 
the corroboree was the representation of a herd 
of cattle, feeding out of the forest, and camping 
on the plain, the black performers being painted 
accordingly. The imitation was most skilful, 
the action and attitude of every individual 
member of the entire herd being ludicrously 
exact. Some lay down and chewed the cud, 
others stood scratching themselves with hind 
feet or horns, licking themselves or their calves, 
several rubbing their heads against each other 
in bucolic friendliness. This having lasted for 
some time, scene the second commenced. A 
party of blacks was seen creeping towards the 
cattle, taking all the usual precautions, such as 
keeping to the leeward, in order to prevent the 
herd from being alarmed. They got up close 
to the cattle at last, and speared two head, to 
the intense delight of the black spectators, who 
applauded rapturously. The hunters next went 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 229 

through the various operations of skinning, 
cutting up, and carrying away the pieces, the 
whole process being carried out with the most 
minute exactness. Scene the third commenced 
with the sound of horses galloping through the 
timber, followed by the appearance of a party 
of whites on horseback, remarkably well got up. 
The faces were painted whity-brown, with an 
imitation of the cabbage tree hat; the bodies 
were painted, some blue and others red, to 
represent the shirts; below the waist was a 
resemblance of the moleskin trousers, the legs 
being covered with reeds, tied all around, to 
imitate the hide leggings worn in that district 
as a protection against the brigalow scrub. 
These manufactured whites at once wheeled to 
the right, fired, and drove the blacks before 
them. The latter soon rallied, however, and 
a desperate fight ensued, the blacks extending 
their flanks, and driving back the whites. The 
fictitious white men bit the cartridges, put on the 
caps and went through all the forms of loading, 
firing, wheeling their horses, assisting each other, 
etc., with an exactness which proved personal 
observation. The native spectators groaned 
whenever a black fellow fell, but cheered lustily 
when a white bit the dust; and at length, 



230 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

after the ground had been fought over and over 
again, the whites were driven ignominiously 
from the field, amidst the frantic dehght of the 
natives, while Eaglehawk worked himself into 
such a violent state of excitement that at one 
time the play seemed likely to terminate in a 
real deadly fight." ^ 

In a study of this sort it is impossible, even 
for the sake of comparison, to give a detailed 
account of the dramas of other peoples besides 
the savages, and hence only the briefest cross 
references can be made to the higher planes of 
culture. In the plays of the Greeks there can 
be found the same basic ideas as appear in the 
historical plays of the savages. People the world 
over, delight in the stories of their own brave 
men, and if they do not put these deeds into the 
form of a dramatic composition or an epic poem, 
they enjoy retelHng them by the camp fires at 
night to each new generation as it reaches a 
sufficient age. But as a rule, if the people have 

1 Smyth, "Aborigines of Victoria," pp. 170 fF.; Thomas, "Aus- 
tralia," p. 124; E. Grosse, "The Beginnings of Art," pp. 207 fF.; 
Thomas, " Source Book of Social Origins," pp. 577 fF. On the Anda- 
man Islands they frequently have a director of the dance and music 
who is, as a rule, a poet and the composer of the dance melody. He 
beats time on a sounding board with his foot for the dancers and the 
singers. E. Grosse, "The Beginnings of Art," pp. 207 fF.; Thomas, 
"Source Book for Social Origins," pp. 580 fF. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 231 

developed the dramatic art to any extent, they 
have their war plays, in which are recounted 
the glories of the past. 

In the Polynesian Islands, instead of the 
priests and the important members of the groups 
taking part in the pleasure plays, there exists 
a condition which was common in a very much 
higher state of society. That is, the actors were 
members of the lowest strata, and they were 
forced to take part in all exhibitions, and to 
dance and act for the edification of the spec- 
tators.^ In many countries of a more devel- 
oped civilization the slaves were made to per- 
form for their masters, for dancing was looked 
upon as a degrading task. 

Many of the plays of the Polynesians closely re- 
semble the Greek plays in regard to their subject- 
matter, for they are based upon the legends or 
achievements of their gods and upon the exploits 
of their distinguished heroes and chieftains. The 
stories are told in the ballads, the actors per- 
forming the various deeds described.^ 

1 W. Ellis, "Polynesian Research," Vol. I, p. 241; W. R. Inge, 
"Society in Rome Under the Caesars," p. 230. "The actor was 
ranked with slaves, and barbarians ... he generally was a slave or 
freedman, or a native of some country where his profession was more 
esteemed, such as the Greek colonies and the East generally." 

2 W. Ellis, " Polynesian Research," Vol. I, p. 199. 



232 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

Among the Greeks the Choregus was a very 
important functionary. Before a play could be 
presented to the public it was handed to the 
Archon, who read it. If it was thought worthy 
to be given before the public at the festival of 
Dionysus a Choregus was chosen to present it. 
These men were of great wealth, and the choosing 
and paying of the chorus devolved upon them. 
As a rule, the poet trained his own choruses, 
although at times a professional trainer was 
called in. The Choregus was not only obliged 
to pay for the members of the chorus, the flute 
player, and the mute characters on the stage, 
but he had also to pay for the elaborate cos- 
tuming of all under him.^ However, the Chore- 
gus of the Greeks differed from that of the savage 
and of the later stage in that he did not appear 
at the performance. A similar functionary exists 
on the island of Java. He has entire charge of 
the performance and not only coaches and pays 
for the actors and music, but also recites the lines 
himself. The actors merely carry out in panto- 
mime the meaning of the lines. ^ 

In the leader of the savage plays, who tells 

1 A. E. Haigh, "The Attic Theatre," pp. S3 ff.; J. W. Donaldson, 
"The Theatre of the Greeks," p. 243. 
3 Wilken, "Volkenkunde," Ch. V. 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 233 

the story of the various parts of the play, we see 
the expositor who in the drama of the Middle 
Ages commented on the scenes in the passion 
plays and expounded their meaning.^ In Greece 
this function was performed by the chorus. At 
the present time, in the Passion Play at Ober- 
Ammergau, the Choregus, or leader of the chorus, 
comes forth before each act and tells the story 
of the events to follow, for in former days the 
audience were not able to read and this means 
was adopted of bringing before them the Bible 
stories and moral teachings. 

When the first regular drama began in Greece 
the people were probably on a very much higher 
stage of culture than any of the savage peoples 
about whom we have been studying. Hence 
the development of their drama was compara- 
tively rapid, and it was only a relatively short 
time between the plays with a serious religious 
purpose and the plays for pleasure. Probably, 
at first, as we have seen in a previous chapter, 
the exploits of the gods were told in a manner 
similar to that employed by the Polynesians and 
other savage peoples. However, there seems to be 
little doubt that between these crude stories and 
the plays of ^Eschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles 

1 B. Matthews, "Development of the Drama," pp. ii ff. 



234 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

there must have been an intermediate step of 
which we have no record, for it seems impos- 
sible to conceive of this highest form of litera- 
ture springing directly from the crude attempts of 
a primitive people.^ No savage tribes have a 
literature of this sort, but it is logical to con- 
clude that if they had been left to themselves 
they would have developed one, for they possess 
the attributes necessary for such a production. 
They have the dramatic, the poetic, and the 
imaginative feelings, and to these need only be 
added the art of writing, and the basis for a 
dramatic literature is laid. However, before 
this occurs the culture of other races shall come 
to them so that the opportunity for developing 
a pure native literature will be lost. 

Thus we see that there are practically no 
races so low in the scale of civilization as not to 
have the drama in some form. There are three 
stages in its development: first, when its purpose 
is to convey definite meaning, and is used at a 
time when the spoken language is inadequate; 
second, when its purpose is entirely religious and 
when its performance enables the people to 
communicate with the gods and spirits; and 
third, when the religious element drops out, 

^ Harrison, "Themis," p. 334, 



PLEASURE PLAYS OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 235 

leaving only the shell whose object is merely 
to amuse those before whom it is performed. 
To the savage this latter stage is of the least 
importance, for nothing very definite is accom- 
plished by it, but to the civilized man it forms 
the greatest height to which the drama has yet 
reached. In these pleasure plays of the savage 
we are able to get the closest connection between 
the drama of a low and that of a high civiliza- 
tion. 



SUMMARY 



CHAPTER VIII 
SUMMARY 

OF all the arts which the world has 
known, that of the drama is one of the 
most widespread — and by drama we 
here include not only the higher stages in its 
development, but also the first efforts of savage 
man to express his ideas by a crude pantomime. 
There are no races so low in the scale of civiliza- 
tion that mimicry does not play some part in 
the lives of the people. In regard to this growth 
of the drama from its simple beginnings up to 
modern times. Professor Brander Matthews says: 
"The dramaturgic faculty is evolved slowly 
with the growth of civilization; and play-making 
skill is one of the latest of human accomplish- 
ments. But the rudimentary effort is every- 
where visible, even among the most primitive 
peoples. As we consider the history of human 
progress, we perceive that the drama is almost 
the very earliest of the arts, as early, perhaps, 
as the art of personal adornment; and we 
discover, also, that it is the very latest to attain 



\ 



240 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

its complete expression. Only among the races 
which may be exceptionally endowed with energy 
of imagination and with power of construction 
does the drama arrive at its highest possibility 
of achievement. In these rare cases it is the 
splendid expression of the special gifts of 

these races; it is the sublime summit of their 
literatures. But in the noblest work of the 
Greek dramatists, and in the most powerful 
plays of the Elizabethans, the same principles 
are applied which we discover doubtlessly in 
the rudest theatrical attempts of the lowest 
savages. 

"It is out of crude efforts, such as may still 
be observed among the Eskimo and the tribes 
of the Amazon, that the dramatic art was toil- 
fully developed by our own predecessors as taste 
refined and civilization advanced. The tradi- 
tions of these rude play-makers were passed 
down from generation to generation, and the 
art slowly discovered itself. The true dramatist 
is like the true statesman in recognizing that 
nothing survives which is not a development of 
institutions already existing." ^ 

It must be remembered that in a very large 
number of the dramatic performances of the 

^ Brander Matthews, "The Development of the Drama," pp. 6 ff. 



SUMMARY 241 

savages we have present merely the germ of an 
art which is later to develop into a much more 
perfected form. The same relationship exists 
between the drama of these primitive people and 
that of a later time, as exists between the rough 
stone hatchet and the steel ax of civilized man. 
The cruder forms must always precede the more 
complex. In tracing social evolution we do not 
ignore the rough chipped stone hatchet because 
it is not as perfect as one made of steel, nor 
should we ignore the early dramatic attempts of 
the savage, although they may consist merely 
in the imitation of the actions of animals. In 
the case of the hatchet and in the case of the 
drama we should take the evidence carefully 
into account, for only by so doing are we able 
to realize the history of our civilization. 

A comparison of the three typical periods of 
dramatic development cited before, will tend to 
bring together many of the ideas which have 
been set forth in the preceding pages. An axiom 
upon which all the history of the drama is based, 
is the fact that the desire to imitate is a uni- 
versal human trait, although it does not appear 
to the same degree among all races of men. It is 
probable that this was almost as unconscious as 
the squinting of a young child when some one near 



242 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

by squints, or the clapping of the hands together 
as the person whom it is watching does. Evi- 
dence seems to prove that the first practical 
use to which the savage put imitation (for it 
was then too simple to come under the head of 
drama) was to convey to his friends ideas and 
thoughts for which his inadequate spoken lan- 
guage had no words. This may be called 
dramatic narrative. Concerning this matter Miss 
Harrison says, "When a tribe comes back from 
war or from hunting, or even from a journey, 
from any experience in fact that from novelty 
or intensity causes strong emotion, the men will, 
if successful, recount and dance their experiences 
to the women and children at home. Such a 
dance we should scarcely call religious, but when 
the doings of dead chiefs in the past or ancestors 
are commemorated, when the dance is made 
public and social and causes strong emotion, it 
takes on a religious color. The important point 
to note is that the hunting, fighting or what 
not, the thing done is never religious; the thing 
redone with heightened emotion is on the way 
to become so. The element of action redone, 
imitated, the element of jjLifxrjais is, I think, 
essential. In all religion, as in all art, there 
is this element of make-believe. Not the at- 



SUMMARY 243 

tempt to deceive, but a desire to re-live, to 
represent." ^ 

The next use to which we see the savages 
putting the drama is in connection with their 
reHgion. As their gods and spirits were at one 
time human, it is only natural that they should 
use, as a means of presenting their petitions, a 
language which the dwellers in the other world 
could understand, for they had used it on this 
earth when they were alive. The basis of most 
of the savage religious drama is sympathetic 
magic. All the animal ceremonies which play 
so important a part among many peoples, and 
the plant ceremonies so widely spread among 
those races who are partially dependent upon 
a vegetable diet, have as their dominant motive 
sympathetic magic. So hard is the struggle 
for existence among the majority of the savage 
peoples, that their minds are scarcely raised 
above the actual getting of food. They gather 
what few plants they can, but their main article 
of diet is the animal. Practically the earliest 
dramatic religious ceremonies are in connection 
with the animals, and they long persisted. As 
we have seen, with the exception of the war 
ceremonies and a very few others, most of the 

^ Harrison, "Themis," p. 43. 



244 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

acting has had to do in some way with animal 
life. It is only when a higher stage of culture 
is entered upon and the minds of the people 
are raised above the actual getting of food that 
we find the form and theme of the drama 
changing. The plays of the Greeks and those 
in the Middle Ages do not have this animal 
element to any extent; whereas but few savage 
people, as far as we have been able to discover, 
have reached that stage where it does not appear 
in some form during their entertainments. We 
even see it among some of the peoples of high 
civilization in Mexico and Peru, though to a 
less extent than in other places. 

The Initiation Ceremonies, especially in the 
countries where the totem has an important 
part, show another form taken by the religious 
drama. The history of the totem (mainly 
animals often regarded as tribal ancestors of 
the far distant past, and thus closely related to 
their religion) is shown to the boys in the little 
plays which have been made up for that purpose. 
In these initiation ceremonies the boys are 
not only taught the morals of their group, but 
are also instructed in the secular history of 
their people. But totem ceremonies, especially 
in Australia, have much more important functions 



SUMMARY 24s 

than merely teaching the boys their history. As 
the totem plants and animals form the chief 
food supply it is important that the boys know 
the ceremonies whereby these may be obtained. 

The acting out of historical events by savage 
peoples corresponds very closely to the pageants 
which frequently take place in civilized com- 
munities. The purpose in each case is to teach 
the people through a visual presentation about 
their own past. A great difference lies in the 
fact that among the savages the religious ele- 
ment forms the background to nearly all of 
their drama. This element may be compared 
to a single fixed scene on a stage before which 
as a background, tragedy, comedy, farce, and 
opera are acted and sung. The historical savage 
drama finds in these civilized pageants a closer 
relationship than in almost any other form of 
drama. In both, the acting is the dominant 
motive, while the lines, if they appear at all, 
are supplementary. 

Another serious purpose to which the religious 
drama is put, appears in some of the war cere- 
monies, where requests through the agency of 
sympathetic magic are presented to the gods so 
that in the coming struggle the petitioners may 
come off conquerors. 



246 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

In comparing the dramas of Greece and the 
Middle Ages with those of the savages we have 
seen that they have many elements in common. 
The Greek drama started with sympathetic 
magic vegetation rites, which, after many changes 
and ramifications, appeared in the form of the 
plays of the great dramatists. When we reach 
the Middle Ages we again find the rebirth of 
the drama in religion, but of less importance 
than in either of the other two stages. It is 
true that the drama was used at first to a certain 
extent as an act of worship, but it had a very 
much more serious purpose in that it was in- 
tended to instruct the people concerning the 
Bible, which they were unable to read for them- 
selves. It is interesting to trace the drama in 
the Church, from the time when almost uncon- 
sciously it was used to worship, down to the 
much later secularizations. The mass of the 
Roman Catholic Church was and is "an essen- 
tially dramatic commemoration of one of the 
most critical moments in the life of the Founder. 
It is his very acts and words that day by day 
throughout the year the officiating priest re- 
sumes in the face of the people. And when the 
conceptions of the mass developed until, instead 
of a mere symbolical commemoration, it was 



SUMMARY 247 

looked upon as an actual repetition of the initial 
sacrifice, the dramatic character was only in- 
tensified." ^ 

Some of the festival seasons, such as Good 
Friday, Easter Sunday, and Christmas, were 
chosen by the Church for graphically portraying 
during the service, scenes from the New Testa- 
ment appropriate to the particular season. 
During these little plays songs would be sung 
explaining the various actions of the characters.^ 
In these latter we see the tendency away from 
absolute worship, as in the case of the mass, 
towards the plays given for the instruction of 
the people. As time went on, the production 
became so elaborate that for the performance, 
they needed not only the space around the altar, 
but also part of the transepts and the nave. 
Later, when it became necessary to increase the 
performance in size, the church proved too small 
and so they had recourse to the porch before 
the west door, to the graveyard, or to the 
neighboring market-place. 

Not only did the absolute separation from the 
actual worship take place, but also the subject- 

1 E. K. Chambers, "The Medieval Stage," Vol. II, pp. 3 ff. 
' For a full discussion of these church dramas see E. K. Chambers, 
"The Mediaeval Stage." 



248 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

matter of the now well-developed plays changed 
in a striking manner. Material was obtained 
from the Old Testament, so that there appeared 
such plays as "Adam and Eve/' and "Cain 
and Abel." These finally became so secular 
that the Church refused to have anything more 
to do with them and thus closed upon the drama 
the doors of religious interest. 
/ There are some striking analogies to be drawn 
between the drama of the savages and that of 
the Middle Ages. It was used by both at a 
very early stage purely as an act of worship, 
the difference being that the savage was asking 
for very definite material aid, while the more 
civilized man was petitioning for spiritual salva- 
V tion, and trying to propitiate the deity by adora- 
tion. In the initiation ceremonies the boys were 
taught the history of their people, and also the mor- 
ality of their tribe. The priests of the later culture 
instructed the people in the Bible history through 
the Mystery Plays ^ and by the dramatic scenes 
from the Old Testament, and tried to raise 
their standard of virtue through the Morality 
Plays, in which the actors showed the continual 
struggle between the Virtues and the Vices. ^ 

^ ^ Chambers, "The Mediaeval Stage." For a history of the Miracle 
• Plays, see Dr. Karl Hase, "Miracle Plays and Sacred Dramas." 
2 C. F. T. Brooke, "The Tudor Drama." 



SUMMARY 249 

Thus we see that the stages through which 
the savages, the Greeks, and the people of the 
Middle Ages passed in the development of their 
dramas are in many respects similar. It is 
true that the attempts of the savages are very 
much cruder than those of the other two, and 
they have developed little dramatic literature; 
nevertheless a study of their actions is important 
as showing the lower stages in the evolutionary 
development of the drama. 

A passage from Professor Matthews may serve 
to summarize a number of points emphasized in 
the preceding pages. "It is from the observa- 
tion of children and from the study of savages 
that the comparative anthropologist has been 
able to throw so much light on the earlier stages 
of human progress. Professor Grosse, in his 
illuminating discussion of the * Beginnings of 
Art,' points out that pure narrative 'requires 
a command of language and of one*s body which 
is rarely found,' and that * children and primitive 
peoples likewise are indeed unable to make any 
narration without accompanying it with the 
appropriate demeanor and play of gesture.' Pro- 
fessor Grosse notes that common usage means 
by a drama, 'not the relation of an event 
enlivened by mimicry, but its direct mimic 



250 THE DRAMA OF SAVAGE PEOPLE 

and verbal representation by several persons'; 
and he asserts the existence of this in even the 
lowest stages of culture. He recognizes as one 
root of a more elaborate drama the duet of the 
Greenlanders, for example, in which *the two 
singers are not only relating their adventure, 
but are representing it by mimic gestures'; 
and he finds a second source in the mimic 
dance. Out of one or the other a true drama 
gets itself evolved at last; and its slow rise in 
the dramatic scale is in strict proportion to the 
rise of the people itself in the scale of civiliza- 
tion. The form is enlarged and enriched; it 
expands in various directions; it will lack liter- 
ature for long years, until at last there arrives 
a dramatic poet who takes the form as he finds 
it, with all its imperfections and inconsistencies. 
He accepts it without hesitation, certain that it 
will serve his purpose, since it has already proved 
that it is satisfactory to the contemporaries 
whom he has to please. In time, after he has 
mastered the form as he has received it from 
his predecessors, he makes it his own and re- 
models it to his increasing needs, when he has 
gained confidence in himself, and when he has 
broadened his outlook on life." ^ 

1 Matthews, "Development of the Drama," pp. 8-10. 



l^ 



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INDEX 

[authors' names are given in the bibliography] 



Acting, a language, 165. 
Acting profession, 107. 
Actions of animals, 218. 
Actions of animals mimicked, 

190. 
Actors, peasant, 182. 
Actors, professional, 219. 
"Adam and Eve," 248. 
Adonis, 96. 
Adoration, 109. 
Adrastus, 181. 
iEschylus, 59, 96, 219, 233. 
iEschylus* Agamemnon, 166. 
iEschylus' Persae, 167. 
Africa, 41, 187. 
Africa, Congo of, 197. 
Africa, Pygmies of, 17. 
Agriculture, 33, 34, 36, 65, (>T, 

91, 92, 191. 
Agriculturist, 210. 
Aht Indians of Northwestern 

America, 198. 
Alcheringa, 146, 147. 
Aleatory element, 158. 
Aleutian Islands, people of, 199, 

200. 
Algonquins, 200. 
Altar, 87, 99, 102, no, 209, 247. 
Amazon, tribes of, 240. 
America, 35, 41, dT, 68. 
America, Northwest, 140. 
American Indians, 60, 182, 183, 

191,197. 
Amphictyonic Council, 105, 106. 



Anachrasis, 126. 

Ancestors, 69, 86, 128, 145, 146, 

225. 
Ancestors, animal, 146. 
Ancestors in Japan, 118. 
Ancestors, spirits of, 81, 132. 
Andaman Islands, 220, 230. 
Andaman Islands, Choregus in, 

104. 
Animal, 23, 54. 
Animal ancestors, 146, 244. 
Animal ceremonies, 37, 157. 
Animal dance, 72, 128, 194. 
Animal imitations, 128, 228. 
Animal love dance, 185. 
Animal spirits, 40. 
Animism, 4. 
Antelope peoples, 74, 76, 'jTy 78, 

80. 
Antelope priest, 81. ^ 

Anthropomorphic, 23, 97. 
Antigone, 166. 
Arabia, 13. 
Arabs, 222. 
Arapahoes, 16, 88. 
Archon, 232. 
Aristotle, 102. 
Aristophanes, 96. 
Aristophanes, Frogs of, 108. 
Arunta quabara, 141. 
Arunta tribe, 146. 
Art, 121, 122. 
Ashikaga Shogun Yoshimitsu, 

117. 



263 



264 



INDEX 



Athenians, 106, no, 126, 127. 
Athens, 106, 107, 108. 
Audience, 181, 233. 
AustraHa, 9, 25, 26, 34, 35, 38, 

4i> 44> 49» ^^^ 67, 70, 126, 130, 

131, 142, 152, 159, 177, 186, 

220, 225, 227, 244. 
Australia, Choregus in, 104. 
Australian corroborees, 128. 
Australian Youth, 127. 
Australians, 37, 60, 121, 131, 132, 

134, 140, 153, 160, 182, 191, 

196, 226. 
Author, 103. 
Aztecs, 6, 216, 217. 

Baboon dance, 188. 

Bacchic Chorus, 103. 

Ballet, 219. 

Barwon, 225. 

Battle, 18, 19, 27. 

Battle, success in, 109. 

Bear totem, 140. 

Behring Strait, 54. 

Bible, 233, 246. 

Bird lore, 200. 

Bismarck Archipelago, 148, 152. 

Borneo, Sea Dyaks of, 164. 

Brazilian tribes, 17. 

Buddhist priests, 117, 118. 

Buffaloes, 48, 49, 86, 87, 89, 

141. 
Buffalo dance, 201, 205. 
Buffoonery, scenes of, 218. 
Bull-dance, 141. 
Bull-roarers, 130, 131, 133. 
Burlesque, 226. 
Burlesque imitations, 189. 
Bushmen, 16, 28, 60, 66, 134, 

188. 



Cagn, 188, 189. 

"Cain and Abel," 248. 

Caishana tribe of Brazil, 196. 

California Indians, 191. 

Camp fires, 99, 186. 

Canoe dance, 186. 

Captain Cook, 196. 

Cassowary, 150, 151. 

Cattle raising, 65. 

Ceremonies, 14, 22, 25, 38, 125, 

127, 128, 129. 
Ceremonies, animal, 37. 
Ceremonies, dramatic, 135. 
Ceremonies, fire, 147. 
Ceremonies, rain, (yj^ 73, 74. 
Ceremonies, religious, 27, 60. 
Ceremonies, sacred, 147. 
Ceremonies, sun, 82. 
Ceremonies, sympathetic, magic, 

26, 27, 121. 
Ceremonies, totem, 26, 39. 
Ceremonies, vegetation, 5, 61. 
Chants, 140. 
Cherokees, 201. 
Cheyenne, 85. 
Chief priest, 133, 134. 
Children, 9, 11, 19, 20, 45. 
China, actors in, 117. 
China, women not on stage, 116. 
Chinese, 13, 222. 
Choerilus, 59. 
Choral singing, 100. 
Choregi, iii. 

Choregus, 104, 214, 232, 233. 
Choreuae, loi, 105. 
Chorus, 100, 103, 104, 105, 113, 

120, 179, 196, 206, 232, 233. 
Chorus of women, 188. 
Choruses of women, savage, 121. 
Christ, 182. 



INDEX 



265 



Christmas, 182, 247. 

Christian Church, 181. 

Church, 247, 248. 

Church dramas of the Middle 
Ages, 178. 

Cinderella, 200. 

Circumcision, 4, 125, 147. 

Civil War, 166. 

Clans, 128. 

Cogaz, 188, 189. 

Colorado River, Grand Canyon 
of the, 73. 

Columbus, 83. 

Columbians, 189. 

Comedy, 13, 50, 127, 196, 216, 
227, 245. 

Comic pantomime, 192. 

Congo of Africa, 197. 

Congregation as passive worship- 
pers, 176. 

Conscious drama, 13. 

Corn, 204, 205. 

Corn Maidens, 208, 211. 

Coroborees, 51, 128, 139, 228. 

Cortez, 217. 

Costumes, 83, 105, no, 137, 152, 
232. 

Crops, 23, 112. 

Cult, 97. 

Cultivation, 66. 

Cultural history, 201, 211. 

Cundinamarac, 83. 

Curtain, 201, 203. 

Dakota Indians, 140. 

Dalang, 212, 214, 215. 

Damaras, 188. 

Dance, 19, 26, 42, 52, 53, 55, 72, 
73» 75* l^y 83, 84, 87, 88, 97, 
98, 100, loi, 113, 115, 118, 



134, 136, 146, 161, 176, 204, 

220, 242. 
Dance, animal, 72, 128, 194. 
Dance, baboon, 188. 
Dance, buffalo, 201, 205. 
Dance, bull, 141. 
Dance, canoe, 186. 
Dance, crab, 43. 
Dance, emu, 43. 
Dance of Eskimos, 189. 
Dance, fish-hawk, 191. 
Dance, friendship, 189. 
Dance, gymnastic, 98, 184, 187. 
Dance, hate, 189. 
Dance, Hornbill, 43. 
Dance, hunting, 50, 191. 
Dance, jealousy, 189. 
Dance, Kangaroo, 43. 
Dance, love, 43, 44, 189. 
Dance, mimetic, 98, 99, loi, 184. 
Dance, primitive origin of, 186. 
Dance, rain, 68. 
Dance, snake, 68, 73, 75, 80, 81, 

86. 
Dance, sun, 68, 84, 86, 88, 89, 90. 
Dance, tragic, lOl. 
Dance, war, 27, 158-170, 226. 
Dance, women, 131. 
Dancers, 48, 102, 103, 141, 163, 

165, 169. 
Dances, masked, 196. 
Dances, mystic, 119. 
Dancing, 102, 143, 159, 175, 202, 

205, 206, 231. 
Dancing, pantomimic, 49, 185, 

193- 
Dead, spirits of, 21, 22, 92. 
Deception, 11. 
Decoration, 128. 
Deities, 39. 



266 



INDEX 



Devil, 126. 

DIcxarchus, 108. 

Dieri tribe, 70, 72. 

Dionysus, 96, 106, iii, 112, 232. 

Dionysiac festival, 107. 

Dionysiac worship, 59. 

Dithyramb, 179. 

Divine Founder, 181. 

Dog, 145. 

D'Orbigny, 82. 

Drama as an act of worship, 175, 

248. 
Dramatic desire, 98. 
Dramatic feeling, 234. 
Dramatic literature, 249. 
Drama, as school of obedience, 

148. 
Dramatic poet, 250. 
Dramatic rites, 121. 
Drama, religious, 71, 90, 178. 
Drama, secular, 178. 
Drum, 88, 120, 121, 161, 162. 
Duk-Duk, 148, 152, 198. 

Eaglchawk, 227, 228, 230. 

Eagle-hawks, 135. 

Easter Sunday, 182, 247. 

Education, 125. 

Eflfigies, 211. 

Egas of Northwestern Brazil, 

196. 
Elders, 148. 

Elizabethan drama, 98. 
Elizabethans, 240. 
EUice Islands, 224. 
Emu, 139, 196. 
Enemy, 22, 23. 
Epic, poem, 219, 223, 230. 
Eskimos, lo, 28, 40, 54, 59, 60, 

182, 183, 189, 190, 200, 240. 



Eteocles, 167. 
Euahlayi tribe, 225. 
Euripides, 96, 233. 
Euripides, Helen of, 58. 
Europe, 68, loi. 
Europeans, 222. 
Evil magic, 133. 
Evil spirit, 130. 
Exorcism, 136. 

Fairy-story, 199. 

Farce, 227, 245. 

Feast, "Inviting In," 54, 55. 

Feather sticks, 209. 

Festival, 103. 

Festival dance, 162. 

Fetish man, 197. 

Fight, mock, 160. 

Fighting, 10, 53. 

Fijian elders, 133. 

Fire ceremony, 147. 

Fish-hawk dance, 191. 

Fishing, 9, 25, 26, 54, 191, 202. 

Flute, 120, 121. 

Flute player, 232. 

Food, 109. 

Food, getting of, 126. 

Food supply, 27, 53, 132. 

Friendship dance, 189. 

Fuegians, 66, 195. 

Future world, 138. 

Greek drama, 61, 97, 98, 103. 
Greeks, drama of, 112, 113, 114, 

120, 179, 181. 
Greek dramatists, 240. 
Greek federation, 105. 
Greek plays, 170, 231, 244, 246, 

249. 
Greeks, plays of, 230. 



INDEX 



267 



Greek poet, 108. 

Greek stage, 166. 

Greek theatre, 109. 

Greenland, 10. 

Greenlanders, 250. 

Guajiqueros, 220. 

Guardians, 129. 

Gestures, loi. 

Gesture, in language, 14, 15, 16, 

18, 23. 
Ghosts, environment of, 6. 
Gin, 9. 

Gironiere, de la, 192. 
God, mountain, 148. 
God, rain, 76. 
God, sun, 83. 
Goddess, 58. 
Goddess, sun, 77. 
Gods, favor of, 174. 
Gods, role of, 148. 
Gods, shrine of, 180. 
Gods of vegetation, 6, (>"], 90, 

96, 97, 98. 
Gods, voice of, 133. 
Gods, war, 177. 
Good Friday, 247. 
Graphic art, 132. 
Graves of dead, 99. 
Great Serpent, 202, 209, 210. 
Greece, 4, 6, 12, 58, 60, 90, 96, 

loi, 107, 109, IIS, 118, 174, 

176, I78> 179, 233. 
Greeks, 4, 29, 59, 91, 99, 100, 

102, 104, 105, 114, 116, 126, 

130, 167, 190, 214, 232. 
Guiana, Arawaks of, 200. 
Guiana, Indians of, 194. 
Guilds, 105. 
Gurney, 105. 
Gymnastic dance, 98, 184, 187. 



Haitians, 166. 

Harvest, 67. 

Hate dance, 189. 

Havasupais, 73. 

Hero, 181, 202, 231. 

Hero myth, 213. 

Hero's tomb, 180. 

Higher powers, 173. 

Hill tribes of North Aracan, 191. 

Hindostan, 12. 

Hindu traditions, 212. 

His Sepulchre, 182. 

Historic incident, 160, 201, 209, 

226. 
Historical events, acting of, 245. 
Historical plays, 220. 
History, 18, 25, 132, 153, 164, 

184, 190, 223, 24s, 248. 
History, religious, 102. 
Homeric Society, 53. 
Honduras, Mosquito tribes of, 

194. 
Hopi Indians, 68, 73, 202, 208- 

211. 
Hopi Indians, Snake Dance of, 

73ff> 115. 
Hopi legend, 208. 
Hopi Olympus, 208. 
Howitt, 192. 
Hunt, seal, 183. 
"Hunter and the Bird," 200. 
Hunting, 8, 9, 18, 23, 25, 26, 34, 

37, 40, 44, 47, S3, S4» 6s, 66, 

92, 191, 202. 
Hunting dance, 191. 
Hunting rites, 192. 
Hypokrites, 104. 

Icaria, 179. 
Idols, 208. 



268 



INDEX 



Iguana, 139. 

Iliad, S3. 

Imaginary environment, 6, 60. 

Imaginative feeling, 234. 

Imitate, desire to, 241. 

Imitate movements of animals, 

187, 191. 
Imitation, 8, 12, 13, 14, 18, 20, 

24, 28, 40, 41, 42, 47, 51, 60, 

68, 102, 141, 222, 242. 
Imitation, among children, 9, 10, 

II. 
Imitation, among lower animals, 

7- 
Imitations of animals, 128, 241. 
Imitative desire in man, 194. 
Imitative impulse, 173. 
Impersonation, 202. 
Impersonation of gods, 180. 
Impersonation of heroes, 180. 
India, 169, 178, 179. 
India, women on stage, 116. 
Indian warriors, 142. 
Indians, 18, 41, 60, 83, 89, 90, 

137- 
Indians of California, 191. 
Indians of the Northwest coast, 

54. 
Indians of the plains, 68. 
Initiation, 25, 130, 131, 134, 189, 

197- 
Initiation, animal, 228. 
Initiation of boys, 152. 
Initiation ceremonies, 130, 131, 

142, 146, 17s, 244, 248. 
Initiation rites, 139. 
Initiation by wolves, 137. 
Initiatory drama, 25. 
Ismene, 166. 
Isthmus tribes, 191. 



"Instinct," dramatic in animals, 

8, II. 
"Instinct," dramatic in man, 6, 

12. 
Interlude, 13. 
Inverted language, 128. 
"Inviting In" feast, 54, 55. 
Iroquois, 201. 
Iroquois dances, 168. 
Iroquois song, 168. 
Isis, 96. 

"Jack and the Bean Stalk," 200. 
Japan, Tj, 114, 115, 118, 179. 
Japanese, 91, 116, 120, 121. 
Java, 56, 179, 211, 216, 222, 232. 
Javanese, 212, 213, 214. 
Jealousy dance, 189. 
Jews, 4. 
Jurupari demon, 196. 

Kangaroo, 139, 144, 145, 196. 
Kangaroo, man, 144. 
Kentucky, 201. 
Kina, 195. 
Kisi, 78, 79. 
Kivas, 74, 81, 202. 
Kojiki, 114. 
Kosa-Kaffirs, 47. 
"Kurdaitcha," 159, 160. 
KwakiutI, 175. 

Laity as actors, 179. 

Lang, G. S., 227. 

Language, 14. 

Language, gesture, 14, 15, 16, 

18, 23. 
Language, sign, 15, 17, 18, 23. 
Language, spoken, 16, 25. 
Last Supper, 181. 



INDEX 



269 



Leading roles, 177. 
Legendary events, 209. 
Legends, 13, 20, 25, 73, 75, 81, 

86, 88, 90, 91, 95, 1 14, 138, 140, 

164, 186, 201. 
Lines, 25, 38, 119. 
Literature, 121. 

"Little Red Riding Hood," 200. 
Love dance, 189. 
Love dances, indecent, 185. 
Love, sacred, 128. 
Lucian's Dialogue, 126. 
Lyre, 121. 

Magic, 141. 

Mahabharata, 212. 

Make-believe, 20, 242. 

Maluti Bushman, 188. 

Manger cradle, 182. 

Mandan Indians, 48. 

Mandans of the plains, 141. 

Maories, 38. 

Marionettes, 208. 

Masai, 170. 

Masked actors, 203,205-208, 210. 

Masked dances, 196. 

Masked figures, 198. 

Masked girls, 208. 

Masks, 48, 53-60, 83, 104, 116, 

117, 204, 208, 211. 
Masks, grotesque, 150. 
Mass, 82, 112. 
Master Dalangs, 214. 
Mattair Bay Islands, 196. 
Mediaeval Christian dramas, 

181. 
Mediaeval Europe, 178. 
Medicine bowl, 209. 
Medicine-man, 22, 37, 39, 69, 

106, 169, 177. 



Men impersonate gods, 148. 
Mexico, 244. 
Mexico, drama of, 219. 
Middle Ages, 113, 190, 198. 
Middle Ages, church dramas of, 

178. 
Middle Ages, church of, 103. 
Middle Ages, morality plays of, 

126. 
Middle Ages, people of, 29. 
Middle Ages, plays of, 179, 244, 

246, 248, 249. 
Mimetic art, 128. 
Mimetic dance, 98, 99, loi, 184. 
Mimetic representation, 8, 9, 36, 

72. 
Mimic combat, 221. 
Mimic hunt, 161, 193. 
Mimicking action of animals, 

190. 
Mimicry, loi, 139, 218, 239, 249. 
Miracle plays, 181, 248. 
Moral code of tribe, 125. 
Moral standards, 26. 
Moral teachers, 126. 
Moral teaching, 215. 
Morality, offences against, 129. 
Morality plays, 128, 248. 
Morality plays of Middle Ages, 

126. 
Mores, 9, 40, 128. 
Mortuary rites, 166. 
Mountain god, 148. 
"Mud heads," 210. 
Mura-Muras, 70, 71. 
Murray Islands, 193. 
Music, 25, 38, 52, 99, 100, 118, 

128, 161, 184, 201, 206, 220, 

221, 232. 
Musical instruments, 121. 



270 



INDEX 



Musicians, 88, 105, 220. 
Mystery plays, 181, 211. 
Mystery plays at Eleusis, 180. 
Mystic dances, 119. 
Myth, nature, 96. 
Mythical ancestors, 127, 135. 
Mythical events, 201, 209. 
Mythological history, 212. 
Myths, 13, 20, 43, 54, 55, 86, 90, 

9h 9S> 97» 98, ii3» ii5» I40> 
153, 164, 186, 188, 199, 205. 

Naga tribes of North East India, 

169. 
Narrative, 18. 
Nature myth, 96. 
New Britain, 42, 43. 
New Guinea, imitation, 148. 
New Guinea, Papuans of, 193. 
New Mexico, 83. 
New Pomerania, 198. 
New South Wales, 139. 
New Spain, Indians of, 50. 
New Testament, 247. 
"N5 plays,*' 57, 77, 114, 115, 

117, 118, 121. 
Nootka Indians, 136, 137. 
North America, 92, 136, 194, 

201. 
North America, peoples of, 182. 
North American Indians, 202. 
Novice, 128, 129, 136, 137, 146, 

147. 

Ober-Ammergau, 182, 233. 

Odyssey, 53. 

Old men, 132. 

Old Testament, 248. 

Omahas, 185. 

Onkos, 58. 



Ophelia, 200. 

Opossum, 49. 

Opossum men, 50. 

Orchestra, 51, 213, 227, 228. 

Orestes, 59. 

Orient, 118. 

Origin of drama, 114. 

Origin of man, 20. 

Origin of Savage plays, 108. 

Orpen, Joseph M., 188, 189. 

Osiris, 96. 

Other World, 91. 

Other World, members of, 158. 

Pageants, 245. 

Painting bodies, 186. 

Paiutes, 73. 

Palatkwabi, 209. 

Palulakoiiti, 202. 

Pantomime, 18, 48, 49, 102, 164, 

183. 
Pantomime, crude, 239. 
Pantomimic dances, 170. 
Pantomimic dancing, 185, 193. 
Parallelism, 13. 
Passion Play, 182, 233. 
Peasant actors, 182. 
Performers, 141. 
Persia, 13. 

Personating the god, 208. 
Peru, 83, 244. 
Peruvians, 13, 216. 
Petitions, 114, 173. 
Plains-Cree, 41. 
Plains Indians, 17, 68, 84, 90. 
Plant Ceremonies, 157. 
Planting, 66, 67. 
Platonic Dialogues, 95. 
Play, 5, 174. 
Play-cycles, 178. 



INDEX 



271 



Play-making, 239. 

Players, 52, 57. 

Plays as school, 146. 

Plays, comic, 53. 

Plays, totem, 27. 

Philippine Islands, 192. 

Phrynichus, 59. 

Poems, 134, 

Poetic feeling, 234. 

Poetry, 11, 53, 99, loo, 119. 

Poets, III, 232. 

Polynesian Islands, 222, 223, 

231. 
Polynesian Islands, Areoi of, 

175. 
Polynesians, 176, 231, 233. 
Polynesian song, 167. 
Polynices, 166. 
Ponca, 85. 

Prayer, 70, 75, 76, 81, 82, 88. 
Prayer for rain, 82. 
Priests, S3, 87, III, 118, 176, 

178, 217, 219, 248. 
Priests as active worshippers, 

176. 
Priests as mediators, 177. 
Priestly class, 22, 103. 
Priestess, 176. 
Priests, war, 177. 
Prince of Wales Island, 162. 
Prince of Wales Islanders, 43. 
Professional trainer, 232. 
Prologue, 70. 

Properties, stage, 119, 120. 
Propitiation, 37, 81, 84. 
Puberty, age of, 25, 125, 127, 131, 

I53» 197. 
Puberty initiatory rites, 126. 
Pueblo, 83. 
Pueblo Indians, 191. 



Puppet, shows, 212. 
Puppets, 212, 213, 214. 
Purpose of the theatre, 173. 

Quabara, 135. 
Queensland, 72. 
'Qing, 188. 

Rain, 23, 39, 109, 112, 131, 157. 

Rain ceremonies, 67, 70, 74. 

Rain dance, 68. 

Rain god, 76. 

Rain-maker, 68. 

Rain-making, 69, 73, 81. 

Rain prayer, 82. 

Rain totem, 39. 

Ramayama, 212. 

Rattles, 78. 

Reaping, 66. 

Religious ceremonies, 37, 60. 

Religious drama, 71, 90, 106. 

Religious dramas of petition, 

22. 
Religious fraternities, 209. 
Religious history, 102. 
Religious plays, 233. 
Religious totem, 190. 
Religious tradition, 96. 
Religious zeal, 89. 
Rehearsals, 219. 
Rhombos, thunder-god, 130. 
Ridgeway, 179. 
Ritual, 22, 25, 61, 97, 175. 
Ritual of the deity, 180. 
River of Heaven, 115. 
Robinson Crusoe, 10. 
Rock Wallabies, 192. 
Role, 208, 218. 
Roles, leading, 36, 51, 106. 
Roles, minor, 37. 



272 



INDEX 



Roman actors, 106. 

Roman Catholic Church, 82, 176, 

182. 
Roman CathoHc Church, mass in, 

112^ 246, 247. 
Rome, 178. 

Rome, acting profession in, 217. 
Rotuna, 224. 
Rural Dionysia, 108. 
Russia, 2CX). 
Rhythm, 52, 98, 99, 162. 

Sacred Ceremonies, 147. 

Sacred dead, 181. 

Sacred dramatic societies, 176. 

Sacred love, 128. 

Samoa, 222, 225. 

San Ildefonso, 83. 

Sarawak, natives of, 168. 

Satyrs, 103. 

Savage love dances, 185. 

Savage relationship with whites, 

222. 
Scenery, 119. 
Screen, 212. 

Sea Dyaks of Borneo, 164. 
Secret houses, 197. 
Secret societies, 136, 197. 
Secrets of tribe, 125. 
Self-maintenance, 40. 
Serpents, 204, 207, 210. 
Serpent effigies, 206, 207, 209, 

210. 
Serpent worship, 81. 
"Seven Against Thebes," 166. 
Shadow, 212. 
Shinto Shrines, 117. 
Shrine, 179. 
Sicyon, 181. 
Sign language, 15, 17, i8, 23. 



Signe Rink, 10. 

Singers, 49, 103, iii, 196, 214, 
220. 

Singing, 52, 72, 'jd, loi, 107, 118, 
131, 137, 143, I49> 163, 189, 
195, 202, 219, 250. 

Skanlet tribes of British Colum- 
bia, 191, 

Snakes, 75, -j^yy 78, 79, 81, 82. 

Snake-Antelope fraternities, 205. 

Snake dance, 68, 73, 75, 80, 81, 
86. 

Snake dance of Hopi Indians, 

115. 

Snake Mother, 82. 

Snake peoples, 74, 77, 78. 

Snake priest, 80. 

Snowy River, 226. 

Societes joyeuses, 179. 

Socrates, 95. 

Solon, 126, 180, 182. 

Song, hunting, 49. 

Song, words of, 49. 

Songs, 26, 38, 46, 88, 100, 102, 

128, 141, 143, 145, 169, 176, 

201, 204, 247. 
Sophocles, 96, 121, 233. 
Sophocles, Elektra of, 59. 
Sophocles, (Edipus Tyrannus of, 

58. 
Soul, 138. 

South America, 83. 
South Sea Islanders, 13, 224. 
South Seas, 196. 
Sowing, dd. 
Spanish Conquest, 6. 
Spectators, 91, 120, 142, 174, 

^ISi 176, 207, 228. 
Speech, 15. 
Spider Woman, 74, 81, 205. 



INDEX 



273 



Spirits, 20, 21, 23, 28, 35, 37, 
53, 54, 56, 60, 61, 69, 81, 91, 

97> 157, 158, 177, 234- 
Spirits, animal, 40. 
Spirits, appeals to, 109. 
Spirits of dead, 21, 22, 92. 
Spirits, environment of, 6. 
Spirit world, 23, 37, 66, 86, 157, 

197. 
Spoken language, inadequate, 

234- 

Spoken language, 16, 25. 

Stage, 144, 201, 217, 227, 228, 
232. 

Stage properties, 201. 

Stage-settings, 51, 84, 87, 201. 

Stage-setting for initiation, Aus- 
tralia, 142. 

Staging, 118. 

Stories, 13. 

Story telling, 183. 

Strolling players, 179, 181, 198. 

Struggle for existence, 6, 28, 29, 
60, 183, 243. 

Subincision, 147. 

Sun, 82, 90, 109, 112, 114, 157, 
203. 

Sun ceremonies, 82. 

Sun dance, 68, 84, 86, 88, 89, 90. 

Sun dance, stage setting, 84-87. 

Sun god, 83, 97. 

Sun goddess, Tjy 115. 

Sun, personification of, 97. 

Sun worship, 82, 83, 96, 114. 

Supplication, 109. 

Survival, loi, 164. 

Sympathetic Magic, 8, 24, 26, 

27» 36, 39, 42, 44, S3, 65, 68, 
109, 114, 158, 170, 243, 24s, 
246. 



Tambourines, 189. 
Tasmanians, 17, 42. 
Temple, iii, 113, 218. 
Temple of god, 109, no. 
Theatre, 109, 197, 175. 
Theatre as school, 127. 
Theatre for religion, 127. 
Theatre of Dionysus, at Athens, 

105. 
Theatre, outdoors, 218. 
Theatrical exhibition, 208. 
Thebes, 166. 

Thespis, 59, 179, 180, 182, 219. 
Thunder, 131. 
"Thunder bird," 84, 87, 89. 
Thunder-god, Rhombos, 130. 
Tidal wave, imitation of, 222. 
Tiyo, 74, 75. 
Tlatelulco, 217. 
To-ho-na-bi, 73. 
Toping, 56. 

Torres Straits, natives of, 54. 
Tortures, 89. 
Totem, 25, 35, 36, 37, 40, 43, 

106, 127, 128, 138, 139, 147, 

153, ^n^ 197, 200- 

Totem animal, 26, 35, 44, 54, 
56, 60, 140, 141, 144, 146, 

245- 
Totem bear, 140. 
Totem ceremonies, 26, 66, 244. 
Totem design, 131. 
Totem myths, 145. 
Totem plant, 35, 245. 
Totem plays, 27, 49. 
Totem, rain, 35, 39. 
Totem, religious, 190. 
Totem, sun, 35. 
Totem, water, 39, 69. 
Totem, Witchetty Grub, 44-47. 



274 



INDEX 



Traditions, 136, 145, 177, 224, 

225, 240. 
Tragedies, 13, 104, iii, 127, 180, 

216, 227, 245. 
Tragic dance, loi. 
Tragic performance, 198. 
Training school for boys, 153. 
Tribal god, 130. 
Tshi-speaking people, 170, 176. 
Tunantins river, 196. 

Unconscious drama, 13, 28. 

Underworld, 74, 82. 

Union of dance and drama, 186. 

Vegetation ceremonies, 5, 61. 
Vegetation, gods of, 6, 67, 90, 

96, 97, 98. 
Vegetation, personification of, 97. 
Vegetation rites, 246. 
Vere, 133. 

Vices, 126, 127, 248. 
Vine, personification of, 97. 
Virtues, 126, 127, 248. 

Wa-Tonga of the Barne, 47. 
Wajang, 212, 213, 215. 
Wajang, purpose of, pleasure, 

teaching, religion, 215. 
Waninga, 144, 145. 
War, 161, 162. 
War ceremonies, 177. 
War dance, 27, 158-170, 226. 
Warfare, 191. 



War gods, 177. 

War party, 142. 

War play, 168, 170. 

War priests, 177. 

Warriors, 27, 89. 

Water totem, 39. 

Whitmee, M., 224. 

Wild-dog, 144. 

Wine-god, worship of, no. 

Wolf-masks, 137. 

Wolf ritual, 136. 

Wolf spirits, 136. 

Wolves, 136, 137. 

Women acting, 222. 

Women, chorus of, 188. 

Women as Orchestra, 51. 

Women not on stage, Greece, 107. 

Women on stage, 166. 

Women's roles, 57. 

Women unclean, 37. 

Words of plays, Japan, 118. 

Worship, 96, 98. 

Worship of dead heroes, 167. 

Worship of the sun, 114. 

Worship of wine-god, no. 

Worshippers, no, 113. 

Wurtja, 145. 

"Yah," 129. 

Yucatan, Mayas of, 219. 

Yukon, 184. 

Zambezia, 47. 
Zunis, 16, 73. 



I 



i 



i 



^ 



/ 



r<2 



